Restless Heart Syndrome
by mychemicalbitchbot
Summary: Malec, post CoLS. They say all Shadowhunters are dramatics, and Alec doesn't seem to be any different. Suffering from his harsh break up, and struggling to hide an unknown illness racking his body, Alec's a mess. Things are shattering, quickly. Love isn't so perfect anymore. Mpreg.
1. Chapter 1 Loss of Control

**Hello, all! Okay, so I fiured it was time to finally get off my bum and post this, you know, before the next book comes out and destroys my little (not so much) story. **

**Firstly, I would like to address that this takes place after CoLS, and Alec escapes from the vampire brat, who is irrelevant to the story. Malec is broken up at his point, but Alec hasn't talked to anyone since it happened. **

**Also, disclaimer. Do you think someone like me would write something as horribly fluffy as TMI (Too Much Information)? Seriously. I couldn't if I tried. (I actually tried to write fluff the other day...) A lot of the inspiration for this came from its namesake, Green Day's Restless Heart Syndrome. Mostly the beginning of the song, mind you.**

**And fair warning. I am very cynical, and those of you who have/are read(ing) Danger Line know full well that I like to slide a bit of fluff in there and then completely obliterate it. This story is not full of easy times, and though Malec does get back together things aren't quite the same. There is illness of the body and heart, and this story makes me very proud. It's a bit out-there, but if you like Danger Line you'll probably like this. And vice versa. (Shameless promotion.)**

_To say "I love you, but…." is to say, "I did not love you at all."_

_~Anonymous._

Restless Heart Syndrome Chapter 1 Loss of Control

Alec stares at the ceiling of his bedroom, completely oblivious to the world around him as yet another pathetic tear slides down his face. He's thinking abut nothing and everything all at once, about how his desire to actually get to know his boyfriend actually ended their relationship. About how he just wants to tell Magnus that he loves him. About how he shouldn't be this weak, that shadowhunters shouldn't be affected like this over anything. About how he could have saved himself all this pain and weakness if he had never let Magnus into his heart, never allowed himself to be gay. If he had never allowed himself to come out, all those painful splinters of subtle hate would never have been shoved gracelessly into his heart.

There's nothing better to think about when you're not thinking about anything.

He hasn't told anyone that he and Magnus broke up. He hasn't really talked to anyone in the two days since. He's hardly gotten out of bed, as whenever he does he feels slightly nauseous and has a desire to throw up. He hasn't, so far, gotten sick, but every time he makes a sudden move he wants to. His insides feel like they're slowly starting to burn, a feeling that's been at the pit of his stomach since he a bit after he started talking with Camille. He assumes it's guilt, now layered with added heartbreak.

With a barely there sigh Alec slowly tilts his head to look around his room, and he hates it. He still has the photos of him and Magnus, smiling and occasionally laughing in various parts of the world, some even taken in New York on a particularly sunny day. He doesn't want to see those photos, not now, not when Magnus has discarded him almost like he meant nothing to the warlock.

He knows he meant something to the warlock, at the very least, but not enough for Magnus to hear his apology, or even listen to his explanation. While the idea of making Magnus mortal was tempting, it wasn't really what Alec had wanted from Camille. He just wanted to know more about his boyfriend, whom never deemed him worthy to be told anything, apparently. Magnus was unfair, Alec made one mistake and it was all over, just gone. The half-demon who taught him to be true to himself wasn't true to him, didn't trust him.

Alec laughs bitterly, before he feels the wave of sickness wash over him again. This can't be just heartbreak, he shouldn't heart like this from a torn up heart. He'll have to get cold medicine eventually, he'll have to leave this room that holds so many memories of himself and Magnus. Sitting where Alec is now, talking, laughing, kissing...

Alec sits up, ignoring the wave of nausea. He has to get out of this room. He can't live here anymore. He can't live in this swirl of Magnus, he can't breathe the stuffy air of his room because there's still the faint trace of his boyfriend-ex boyfriend at that, one he really doesn't want to think about right now while simultaneously wants to think about with his undecided attention.

So Alec makes for the training room, not really thinking about it, and he get out his bow and starts shooting at targets, ignoring everything on his mind and just hitting the red dot in the middle over and over and over again. He's trapped in his own world of shooting the target, but breaks out of it with a fresh set of tears when he remembers saving Magnus with the same bow, and he collapses on the floor in a heap of sobs, pulling his knees up to his heat. He shouldn't be reacting like this. But he's, and how can he stop? How can he stop the tears, how can he stop the unsettling feeling in his stomach, the aching of his heart?

Alec doesn't get a chance to think about it when he feels a wave of disgust travel up his frame, up his throat in a dizzying way. He sprints to the nearest restroom, and empties up whatever manages to be in it after two days of not eating. He takes a minute to collect himself after the sudden puking session, and rinses out his mouth with a quick gurgle of water, not giving a damn about mouthwash. He's too depressed to care about something so trivial, and he feels disgusting on top of looking like a wreck.

Alec makes his way out of the bathroom, moving slowly towards the kitchen. The last thing he wants to do is eat, but he should at least try to get down some crackers and a ginger ale to cure his obviously upset stomach. When he finally makes it to the kitchen, he sees Izzy and Maia there, talking over a plate of nachos. The smell makes him want to throw up all over again.

When he walks into the room, Izzy gasps at his appearance. Puffy red eyes and an almost dead expression.

"Alec! What happened?" she asks, eyes wide.

Alec shrugs, not really wanting to talk as he opens the refrigerator. "Do we have any ginger ale or something?"

Izzy's eyebrows come together at her brother's odd request, but she nonetheless answers his question with the shake of her head. Alec sighs, deciding to look for saltines in one of the cupboards. He looks so... inanimate.

"So... Have you been here all week? We thought you were with Magnus and didn't want to be disturbed," Isabelle says, still not certain about what's going on with her brother. "Did you two have a fight?"

Alec's body starts shaking and he bites his lip as he tries to hold back tears from hearing Magnus's name spoken out loud. It's bad enough hearing it in his head, he doesn't need to have the name blasted at him through his ears as well.

Alec can't hold back a sob as much as he tries, hunched into himself, and Isabelle notices. She shoots Maia a look, telling her to scram, before she walks over to her brother and wraps an arm around him. This is obviously a bad fight between the seemingly perfect couple.

"Sh..." She soothes, letting Alec cry into her shoulder. "You can tell me. I know about these kinds of things."

Isabelle doesn't quite believe the response she gets from her brother, as the possibility never so much as crossed her mind.

"He... Broke up with me," Alec whispers, new tears falling, wetting Isabelle's undoubtedly fashionable shirt, something Magnus would love. It just causes him to cry harder.

Isabelle goes rigid for a moment, taking a good five seconds to process what Alec said. She had never considered Magnus breaking up with Alec an option, it had never seemed a possibility. Her brother had put everything into their relationship. He had fucking come out of the closet for Magnus. Magnus Bane deserves punishment, or at least some kind of smacking for turning he brother into this mess. Isabelle squeezes Alec to her, rubbing his backs s he continued to cry and sob into her.

After a while she glanced at the clock, and realized that the rest of the family should be coming to dinner soon, so they need to get out of there, because she highly doubts Alec wants anyone else to see him like this. Fucking bastard that did this to him.

"Do you want to go to your room?" Isabelle asks, though she kind of doubts it. Magnus, fucker, and Alec spent hours in there, doing the Angel only knows what. Alec shakes his head to confirm her thought, and pulls off of her shoulder.

"I'm sorry about your shirt..." He says, then sniffles. "I just..."

Isabelle shakes her head. "You just got broken up with for the first time. I don't really care about the shirt right now. Let's go to a dumb chick flick and eat ice cream after, okay?"

Alec doesn't really like chick flicks, and neither does Isabelle, but he's grateful to get out of the institute. It's the last place he wants to be, besides with Magnus in his flat. He needs to return his key... Not today, though. He's not strong enough for that. Why does he have to be so damn weak? He's a shadowhunter for the Angel's sake!

Isabelle ends up sneaking into Jace's room for a change of clothes for her brother, and Alec doesn't seem to even notice that they're not his usual black and he pulls them on in quite the zombie fashion. He feels sick again, but not in the puke-y way. He just feels so... Helpless, and he hates it. No one should be able to do this to him.

Isabelle pulls Alec out of the institute, as he's lost in his own world, and takes him to a place that reruns older movies. There's a screening of Mean Girls in a half hour, so Isabelle buys them tickets and leads her brother to a conveniently located ice cream parlor a block away.

Isabelle gets chocolate ice cream, and Alec is too out of it to think of more flavors than vanilla. They sit in silence as they slowly eat their ice cream, Alec a bit reluctant to eat anything after puking earlier. Isabelle just assumes it's the break up blues and thinks nothing of it, besides that she is so going to go off on Magnus the next time she sees him.

They make it to the movie a bit early, and Isabelle gets a bag of popcorn Alec wants no part of. He's feeling slightly ill after eating ice cream, though he has more energy, he would prefer not to feel like shit, so he doesn't touch it. He doesn't need another thing to upset his currently unruly stomach. Maybe he's sick... No, that's silly. Shadowhunters don't get sick.

The movie flies before Alec's eyes, and he finds some of the jokes amusing enough to think that they're amusing, so it might be okay. But every time they joke about the one kid being too gay to function, Alec's heart clenches as he thinks of Magnus. Magnus isn't anything like the kid, not really, besides the fashion obsession, but Alec can't get his boyfri- ex-boyfriend out of his head. He's so used to thinking of Magnus as his boyfriend that it's hard not to anymore.

He keeps going over the things he did wrong in their relationship, things he could have done better at. He keeps thinking that if he had come out to his parents sooner, Magnus would still be with him. Maybe if he hasn't picked so many fights about immortality, Magnus would still love him. Maybe if he'd put more than everything's had into their relationship... But Alec knows what ended their relationship, and despite knowing that it won't change anything, he runs over nearly every moment that spent in each other's company, whether they were alone or with other people, trying to get a sense of that happiness he found with Magnus, but each time it slips away, leaving him feeling hollow inside. He misses Magnus so, so much.

Isabelle shakes her brother from his trance even after all the final credits have rolled, the look in his eyes saying he needs so much more time to heal than this dingy theater can give him. When Alec looks at her, for a moment it seems like he's not really seeing her, but a moment later he snaps out of it and gives her a meek, and entirely false, smile. A smile that Magnus made fake.

She suppresses a sigh as they make their way to the institute, and Alec collapses on a couch in one of the living rooms with a sigh. She suspects there might be an abundance of sighing in the near future from her older brother. She remembers what first breakups are like, and she didn't even like the guy as much as Alec likes Magnus.

It's going to suck, that's for sure. But they'll get through it, they always do.

The next day Alec throws up again, but he doesn't tell anyone. He doesn't quite know what's wrong with himself, and he doesn't want to ask why he's getting sick when shadowhunters aren't really supposed to get sick. He assumes maybe it's some symptom of having a broken heart and memories that tear him up, but Isabelle never mentioned anything about that. But Isabelle probably never actually loved one of her boyfriends. Alec won't even bother asking Jace if this is how he felt when couldn't be with Clary, but the situation is entirely different and Jace is... Well, he's Jace.

Alec hates going in his room. He hates it so much. He needs somewhere else, somewhere that doesn't remind him so painfully of Magnus. He needs somewhere new.

Isabelle doesn't see much of Alec over the next couple of days. She wants to, to make sure he's alright, but whenever she wants to hang out again she's either on a mission, or he's not at the institute-disappearing to places or wherever he goes when she can't find him. Isabelle doesn't know where he's going, and Alec dodges the question in those odd seconds she gets with him while they pass in the hall. It's not the best way of things, and her brother doesn't really look that happy, or very healthy for that matter. But until she can catch a real moment with him it will have to do.

Finally, after three days of missed brothers and worried glances they get assigned a mission together. It's a simple thing, just patrolling, so it provides a good opportunity to talk. And Isabelle wants to talk.

"How have you been?" she asks as they walk down the abandoned, dimly lot alleyway. There are a couple of homeless, of course, who can't see them because of their glamours, thusly they don't count. Isabelle doesn't look at her brother as she asks, but she walks a few inches closer to him to show him that she's there for him.

"I've been..." Alec sighs, "I really don't know."

There's silence for a few moments. Isabelle would like to pretend that it isn't awkward, that Alec's state of melancholy isn't getting to her, but it is. She can't brush off the dense atmosphere, the lost and shattered aura coming from her brother. Alec might not know exactly how he's doing, but it certainly isn't well. His skin is even more pale than usual, and there are purple bags under his somewhat red eyes. This is all Magnus Bane's fault.

Isabelle sighs. "Alec... You'll find someone else, eventually."

After a few more moments of silence Isabelle glances at her brother, and sees tears welling up in his eyes and his lips contorted downwards into a broken frown.

"I don't want to find anyone else, Isabelle," he says, a tear falling from one of his eyes.

Isabelle feels a stab of guilt like it punched her in the gut, stealing her breath away. She was tactless... She abandons all ideas of keeping on patrol to hug her crying sibling, letting him cry into her shoulder. She rubs circles in his back, trying to sooth him.

"It'll be okay, Alec. Don't worry. It'll be okay."

Alec pulls away from Isabelle, wiping the last of his tears off on his sleeve.

He nods, smiling falsely.

**Tell me what you think, yeah?**


	2. Chapter 2 Nuclear Family

**Sorry it's been so long! I've had the last chapter sitting in my draft box for so long that I forgot when I posted it! **

**Announcement, for those of you who read Danger Line! The next chapter is (probably) going to be the last. **

**On to this story, I'm going to break it to you right now that it is somewhat a CRACK FIC. In the completely serious way. **

**School's been fucking me up, but updates should be quicker. Thanks for the reviews, too!**

_"It is not titles that honor men, but men who honor titles."_

_~Niccolo Machiavelli._

__Restless Heart Syndrome Chapter 2 Nuclear Family

Alec, after his break-down on Isabelle, seems to be disappearing from the institute more and more. No one really knows where he is or what he's doing, least of all Alec himself, but the answer to the question Isabelle's asked him nearly a million times becomes somewhat clearer over dinner with the entire family, including a slightly glowing Jace, sans Robert, as he's still in Idris.

"I'm moving out," Alec says blandly over his hardly touched sweet and sour chicken. He's really not feeling the dish.

Maryse looks up from her own take-out, her eyebrows set in a stern and unforgiving manner. "You're doing no such thing."

"You're _what?!" _Isabelle screeches, jumping up and out of her chair as if to physically block him. If this is about Bane, of course it's fucking about the fucking warlock, she's going to have his head on his stake in front of the institute for display, accords be damned.

Jace merely raises an eyebrow in questioning. His _Parabatai _hasn't mentioned any such plans to him in training or when they see each other (which is never as of late, he realizes,), and it's kind of insulting, but he supposes that moving out does make sense on some level. He won't risk seeing Magnus when they need a warlock, and his brother will learn to take care of himself. Learn to be the adult he supposedly is. It's not like he hasn't said it a million times.

Alec sighs, and it's a heavy noise that lays thickly in the kitchen. He wants to throw up. He needs to get out. He needs to get out. "I'm moving out."

"No, no, no, you're not!" Maryse scolds, beginning to panic. Her oldest son, leaving the institute... Is he going to leave Shadowhunting, too? Like her brother did, for that silly mundie all those years ago?

Alec stands up, fighting a wave of nausea as he does, and turns to leave. "Nothing you can say will change my mind. I'm leaving. I... I just need some time alone."

"No, you're not!" The younger and older Lightwood women yell together.

Alec twists his body to face them, fighting the urge to empty the contents of his stomach, and smiles at them. It's not a sad smile, it's broken, a melancholy display of something eating out his heart. It flashes his desperation, highlighting his emptiness at a shocking velocity. It turns two protesting women silent, renders their minds blank and their mouths empty, their eyes fixed on his face like it's a death wish that they don't know what to do with. In a way, it is.

With a pained expression that's really just him resisting the urge to empty out his already hollow stomach, Alec speaks again, words that he knows his mother needs to hear. Maybe he just shouldn't be assed to do so, he's feeling so lazy, but he has to. This will allow him to go. "I'm not leaving Shadowhunting. Call me and I'll get here for what you need me, but I can't live here right now."

Alec leaves, slowly, trying to not further upset his body, but as soon as he knows he's out of sight he dashes to the nearest bathroom, vomiting in the off-white and paint-cracked toilet.

He collapses on the floor, his arms wrapped around the toilet seat like it's his lifeline, dull and stupid but not something he can let go of. The dull light casts dirty yellowing shadows over the white tiles, displaying the dents and imperfections like a grand showcase. The same light that casts gloom on the room strews his sickly skin as yellow and orange, ghostly and supernatural even to the world Alec doesn't choose to live in.

He doesn't know what he's doing. He knows it might be a bad idea to just leave like he is, but he doesn't care. He wants out. Out of stuffy rooms with stuffy memories, out of forever winding hallways that are emptier than the loneliness in his heart. He needs to get away from the lurking shadows that once made up his love life, away from the happy romance that his siblings and their partners would undoubtedly be bringing around to torture him with.

He doesn't know exactly where he needs to be, but it's not here, and he's found a place he can rightly (maybe not legally) call his own until he finds his own little slice of heaven.

In his mind, he's alone, oblivious to the caring people around him as he sits in murky light of a destitute water closet, looking blankly at the disgust towards himself that's made itself corporeal in the toilet bowl. He's so fucking pathetic sometimes.

He's let down his family, just like he's let himself down… Just like he failed Magnus. Maybe he really isn't deserving of any trust. People should stop giving it to him. He's such a stupid fucking wreck, and he's only getting what he deserves.

It takes a moment, but Alec pulls himself together enough to go back to his room, and he does, his feet dragging on the carpet in a rather repetitive pattern. His feet are stuck in a rut, just like his ability to retain trust. He has to stop making jokes that don't make anyone laugh. Well, some of them made Magnus laugh… but that's irrelevant now, isn't it?

After what seems like years compressed into hardly a minute Alec opens the door to his room, flopping down on it like the good-for-nothing he's convincing himself that he is. His eyes shut and he remains in the jelly of time for a moment as time stretches out, seeming to take forever as everything moves too slowly for his liking. But he just can't bring himself to move. He's just doesn't have the incentive. Like it even matters.

A knock rings clearly through the jell-o pocket of time his brain has created, and he automatically calls to the knock he can almost recognize. It's not angry, it's not gentle and there's overall little passion to it. It's Jace; who else could manage to seem so neutral in a time like this?

"Jace," Alec sighs slowly, not really not knowing what's going to be said but feeling hollow enough not to give a damn.

"Alec," Jace acknowledges, closing the door and leaning against it. It's a good thing he's not flammable. But if he was, maybe he'd burn away Alec's memories for him. That might be nice.

"You're not going to try and stop me, are you?" Alec finally questions, slightly weary as he looks at his brother through tired eyes. He's still not exactly sure where Jace stands, though it is to be considered that he seems to not give a flying fuck.

Jace seems to think on it for a second before making a decision. "I don't think so, no."

They're silent for a few moments, doing nothing but letting the clockwork screwed in their heads wind around and around in new, but familiar, patterns. Alec's relieved that Jace isn't trying to stop him, and his adopted brother is no doubt trying to catch the exact meaning of the smile on Alec's face that just seems to showcase his loneliness.

"Thank you," Alec decides, slightly unnerved but too moody to care about Jace's lack of witty remarks.

Jace shrugs, and Alec wonders for not the first time if he's ever anything but perfect. "It's your life. Besides, you'll be the one longing to live with me again by the end of the week."

Alec scoffs, a bit revived from the teen his feelings will never completely disappear for being normal enough to seem as conceited as he usually does. "Whatever."

Jace smiles, then his eyes turn hard with hardly a trace of joke or play. "Are you serious about this?"

The adult takes a deep breath, exhaling slowly as if to savour non-existent nicotine. "Yeah. I am."

Jace nods, his eyes carrying a mild amount of questioning but nothing serious. "Let me help you move tomorrow?"

Alec snorts. "You do realize you're somewhat on fire, right?"

Jace rolls his eyes. "Thank you, captain obvious. I can use a glamour, because while you may be the captain of obvious I am quite obviously the tyrant."

Alec nods, and they get stuck in silence for a moment before Jace's phone _bing_s.

"I promised Clary a movie. I'll have to go, using that rather easy tool noted as a glamour. Or, if you want, I could stay instead?"

Alec shakes his head, fighting the sudden urge to let salty water leak from his unforgiving eyes. "I don't mind. Go have fun with your girlfriend."

Jace nods, giving Alec a thoughtful look and turning to open the door. "You'll still come to train with us, right?"

Alec nods, and Jace leaves, shutting the door softly behind him, a smile on his lips as he thinks of his coming date.

Alec bites the inside of his cheek, staring hard at the ceiling as his lips quiver downwards. He won't cry. He won't. It's his fault; Jace didn't choose Clary over him this time, he let him go. He would have stayed had Alec asked, and he's helping Alec tomorrow, though he did look happier to be gone. he's being irrational. It shouldn't hurt like this... so why does it?

Alec covers his mouth in a sudden panic, moving quickly to the bathroom he's glad he has before his already empty stomach attempts to escape him via his mouth. Bits of mucus come up, chunks and globs from unknown origins find their way out of his mouth, and not for the first time he miserably wants to die.

He can't, though. What's left of his pride won't allow it.

* * *

Jace stays true to his word and helps Alec move the next day, which mainly consists of putting on a slight glamour and taking Alec's boxes with his to the subway station and to his new apartment. They walk silently next to each other as Alec leads the way, weaving through the occasional clump of mundies (and the occasional downworlder) with a couple boxes each.

Alec opens the door with the key he got when he started renting, the cheap lock taking a few tries to open, and they drop the boxes down on the floor. Alec starts to unpack while Jace sits on the shabby couch the complex comes with, looking around the rather small place and texting someone or other. It's not too far away from the institute, just two stops on the subway and a few blocks from the station. Jace complains rather loudly about the lack of an elevator, which should, according to him, be made illegal in civilized countries. Alec doesn't much mind, besides the fact he has to lug his weakening body up all the steps. It won't be much of a hassle when he stops feeling so sick, which seems to be an off and on thing, and he expects this stupidity of his body to end quick enough.

Alec's got most of his things packed away into the furniture that came with the (rented) territory when Jace orders them take out from a nearby place he saw while they were walking. How he remembered the number is beyond Alec, but most things that Jace do are nearly inhuman anyway. Alec's feeling fine, though.

He's less tired, he's talking a bit to Jace, and he doesn't feel like the walls of the building around him are trying to eat him. His stomach isn't bothering him at all, and when he smiles he almost means it. He's living in the moment, and though the recent past creeps into his mind like an infection that won't go away he manages to remain more or less in the conversation he's having with Jace. He eats when the food gets delivered, and he's feeling almost normal as his expanded appetite as he shovels in spaghetti with what could nearly be considered passion.

"You're still training with the fabulous moi at the Institute, right?" Jace asks suddenly, and it takes Alec a moment to completely comprehend the question. Jace thought he was going to stop _training_? Why would he do that? It would be dangerous for a shadowhunter to neglect his physical...

"You think I'm going to leave." Alec blurts as the thought shoots across his mind. How could Jace think that? Does his _Parabatai_ really not know him that well? That's almost insulting. No, it _is _insulting. It likely shows on his face, but he could care less with all the other shit he's dealing with.

"No, that's not what I meant. You've just been... Odd, lately." It's completely out of character, yet something Jace would say.

Alec frowns, his temper shortening as his already shot nerves are danced upon. "Well, excuse me for being odd. I did just get broken up with. if I recall correctly, you were pretty shattered when you realized you couldn't be with Clary."

"That's nowhere near the same, and you know it." Jace says, a hint of danger in his eyes. Then he sighs, ridding himself of whatever emotion was tackling his mind. "But it doesn't matter. I just want you to be okay. I mean, no one else is the _parabatai _of such epicness."

Alec sighs, calming himself down. He shouldn't be getting so upset. It's stupid. It doesn't help that Jace seems to curve everything back to himself. It's annoying, and Alec's certainly irritated, but at least the focus isn't on him much anymore.

Jace says something offhandedly again, and they start to shoot the breeze again, but this time it's a bit different. There's less of a pleasant feeling in the air, everything's more strained. Alec doesn't touch his food again.

* * *

It's a half-hour later when there's a knock at the door, and Jace gets it. Alec stays on the shitty couch, and when the door opens he can see his sister in the doorway, and they talk in voices too quiet for Alec to make out more than mumbles. Then he gets it.

"You're babysitting me," Alec says, standing up from his rather comfortable position. His stomach churns a bit at the sudden motion, but he doesn't give a damn.

"Don't be silly, Alec," Isabelle says, walking over to him. As she walks closer, her vanilla perfume rolls out across the room and straight to nauseating his stomach. Oh Angel, he's going to puke now, if they don't leave.

"Get out," He says, and his face is probably turning white as he tries to breathe out his mouth and not throw up. It probably serves to make him look more angry.

They looks confused. "Alec, wha-"

"Get OUT!" He screams, then runs to his bathroom and slamming the door behind him. He throws up as soon as the lid of the toilet is up. His lunch... there it goes.

A stupid tear rolls down his cheek as he goes over what his siblings probably think. The bathroom is connected to his room,so they probably think he shut them out. They probably think he's being a dick, and he is, but only because he doesn't want anyone to know about this illness tearing up his body. Another pernicious tear slides down his face, and another, and he can't stop he's such a fucking failure.

* * *

It's been a few days and Alec's on patrol with a silent Isabelle. Alec hasn't apologized; he doesn't know what to say. Sorry for being an asshole, I'm ill but I don't want you to know? He thinks not.

Alec stops for a second, and is yelling for Isabelle to move as he jumps out of the path of a humanoid cloud of smoke and burning yellow eyes. A shot of sickness pumps through Alec's veins, rushing in with adrenaline, and he's got a blade out and plunged into the Iblis demon a minute later. It bursts into ash as it dies, but Alec hardly pays attention as he starts to cough. He brings his hand up to block his mouth, and he can taste iron in his mouth as his body disagrees with him.

"You okay?" Isabelle asks, worried despite herself.

Alec nods, taking a second to compose himself. "Yeah. Just swallowed wrong. Sorry about yesterday."

Isabelle nods. "Whatever."

She's decided she's going to have to kill Magnus for making her brother so damn moody. Maybe she'll kill Alec while she's at it.

* * *

Alec sighs, unlocking the door to his apartment. He's tired after the patrolling, and everything is kind of blurry. He was coughing up blood, he knows that, and it can't be a good sign. He's going to have to figure out what's wrong with him, because something evidently is. He's puking, feeling ill, and now he's coughing up blood. It's just a mess. he's just a stupid mess/ Fuck it.

Why is the key being so difficult? Alec can't seem to get it into the door, it's... the world seems to spin for a moment, black swirling in with the rest of his sight as he sees the ceiling as he hits the ground. Then, everything's black.

**Thoughts, anyone?**


	3. Chapter3 Your Nickel Ain't Worth My Dime

**Okay, here is a little display of my sadistic streak. Sorry it's taken so long, visiting California, Halloween, my cousin died, fucking writer's block... **

**On the bright side, Magnus next chapter! Hahahaa... That's going to be fun! Well, anyway, I hope you don't mind this filler-ish chapter, needed to be done! Next update may take a while, same as this one, because the play I've been doing for the last bit is going to be open in three weeks! Eeeks, lines! My stagemanager is pretty cool, though, and helps me out. (Love you)**

**Am I the only one who thinks that when Alec loses the best memory he's ever had it should be when he met Chairman Meow?**

**See you at the bottom?**

"Tears are words the heart can't express"

~Gerard Way

Chapter 3 Your Nickel Ain't Worth My Dime

A fog of white and apathy invades Alec's mind, and he finds himself not caring about his surroundings as his every nerve is soothed. He can't see more than light noise, an abyss of white that he knows it would be easy to lose himself in, but it seems irrelevant. He's too numb right now, he can hardly feel the presence of his own body. He should be alarmed, any good shadowhunter would be... But those are fucks not worth giving. He's just... floating. Maybe there's a sweet demon blood pumping through his veins, burning through his mind in this bitterly beautiful way. Bitter because there's no emotion behind any of his thoughts, and beautiful for the same reason. But it doesn't matter. It's nice here, wherever his mind has taken him. He's calm, he doesn't feel overwhelming emptiness, he's not worrying. He's not even sure what it is he should be worrying about. Magnus, maybe? It doesn't really matter, does it? If he can stay here, on this blood or drug.

After what seems like a nice stay in a land without emotions, a paradise of sorts, Alec eventually begins to wake back up into his hell. It's rather annoying, losing the light feeling as his body weighs him down. He's just a clunky shadowhunter again.

Alec's eyes opens his eyes to a room curtained by bluish curtains. There's a silver metal pole next to him, with a plastic bag filled with something Alec hasn't identified that is leaking down a plastic cord and under a white gauze bandage on his outer wrist. It's a rather disconcerting feeling, actually. It doesn't help that he still doesn't know where he is.

He sits up, only for passive white and blue blankets to tumble off his lap and onto his (conveniently existent) lap.

He can't honestly feel anything, and as he pulls the gauze and tube off his whist he's surprised to see a long needle following it. He didn't feel so much as a pinch, hear so much as the ripping of tape. He can see as a light next to him begins to flash red as he climbs out of the bed slowly, his haywire limbs being impossible to control. He tries to grab something for support, but finds himself as white shoes appear from behind the curtain, running towards him. The world goes away.

* * *

Alec snaps his eyes open, his mouth stealing air like a criminal as pain assaults his body. His body is burning, both on the inside and out. He shoots up and slumps into a sitting position as his body is wracked with coughs, his hands covering his crimson lips as blood splatters out unforgivingly. His throat is slick with blood, and he can feel that blood heating up as his skin catches alight in his mind and his nerves are burned, and by the Angel, it hurts so much.

Alec rips off the sheets and pulls out the annoying needle that's back in his arm as he struggles to get away. To jump out of his skin and this damned _heat. _His feet hit a floor that feels like ice, and he drops to it, not being able to stand up even as adrenaline pumps through his veins. He's been set on fire before, and that isn't an experience he's eager to repeat, but this is worse than the awful feeling, the smell of your own skin melting away. He's not actually burning as he illusions himself into horrible pain. It's worse than when the Greater Demon nearly killed him. This is the pain meant only for a worst nightmare, a nightmare put under a microscope and magnified by an incalculable amount. This is beyond torture, this is beyond what his numbing mind can process.

A hand squeezes onto his arm and he whimpers, the pressure and cold of it all turning whatever affliction he's suffering worse by a ten-fold. Before he can try to even fight back against whatever it is that's gripping him, a freezing needle is plunged into his upper arm and something equally chilling trickles through his system, and his body loses its purpose, and it fails him, spiraling into a state of half-consciousness and immobility. He's not burning anymore, or he can't feel it. It's nice, and words slither through his ears but he makes little effort to process them.

"... Private room... strap him down... sedative... tattoos... infection..."

* * *

Alec wakes up again, his body slightly cold as cloth restraints keep him down. Wherever he is, it's certainly not the typical place one would expect to wake up in. It's certainly not something he's familiar with.

The ceiling is white and crackle-y, set into squares and divided by what looks like weak plastic enforcement. The walls are flat and smooth, and there's an equally white door with a silver knob of a handle leading elsewhere.

It's not like the institute or even the unfamiliarity of his apartment, and it's completely new and unknown to him. Fucking fantastic.

Alec lays in the soft-enough bed, staring at the ceiling while he puts together what he knows. It's not much, but maybe he can make something of it. He knows that there are other people around and he knows that he can't get out of the restraints that are stranding him in this circus of white linens. They're shadowhunter-proofed, it seems. Or maybe it's that his limbs weigh him down when he tries to move them, but it hardly matters. Whoever has him locked here doesn't want him going anywhere, and there's nothing he can do. Whatever is going to happen is going to happen.

Nearly fifteen minutes later, according to the sterile plastic clock above the door, a man walks into the room and Alec's location becomes so much less of a mystery. Magnus would sometimes watch television shows about places like this, and the people were always the main focus, not the architecture. It's the clothes giving the game away, and Alec is grateful for it. It's what must be a mundie wearing something Alec's come to know to be called a _scrub, _the origin of which eludes him but the actual item not being all that difficult. Magnus used to call it unholily unattractive, as it never seemed to do much for the but make people look shapeless, covered in an entirely unattractive color. Alec agrees that it's not the most attractive, nor is the man wearing it, but what's more important to him is that he's in a place called a _hospital_.

A mundie place for healing, where they need identification and insurance, records and everything he doesn't really have. He's gotten an ID, strapped in his wallet, because he needed one to get his flat, but it's hardly tied to anything. Only things the Clave set him up with, things his renters would look at. But if the hospital were to know who he is... well, he'd be screwed. No records but false tax returns and masked employment with false insurance, if any. Alexander Lightwood hardly exists on paper, and it'll be obvious he's faking... he'll have to go back to the institute, he'll have to leave his apartment as it's tracked back to him, Angel, he doesn't want to go back...

The man walks over to Alec, and puts his hand on the side of the bed and suddenly the top half of his body is being elevated into a sitting position. It leaves him kind of dizzy, but not enough for him to not pay attention.

"Hello, Mr. Lightwood," The scrub-clad man says, pulling up a chair to sit on after he reads Alec's name off a brown clip board. So much for not finding his ID. "I'm Mark, and I'm one of the nurses working the night shift tonight. How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Alec answers, with an attempted tone of finality that the stranger doesn't seem surprised by. Must be used to resentful patients.

Mark nods, smiling indulgently. "Of course. We're still not sure what's wrong with you, but we can test for some things if you'd like. You had a burning fever yesterday, caused by what seems to be an infection, but that seems to have subsided. Now, can I ask you about any abnormalities you've experienced in the days before you came to the hospital?"

"No," Alec declines, not wanting to share anything even close to weakness with a _mundie. _It would be insulting to his family name, and besides... wait, did the nurse guy say something about his days _before _his hospital stay? Does that mean... "How long have I been here?"

Mark looks at his clipboard, scanning it for the information Alec's requested. "Three days. It looks like you've been drifting in and out of consciousness, at times hysterical. You have no emergency contacts in your records, in fact, you have no records that we could find..."

Three days. _Three days. _Three fucking days, oh fuck, he's screwed. He hasn't contacted his family for three days, and he just moved out a week ago, shit...

"Release me." Alec demands, his eyes sharp as he glares at the nurse. What gives them the right to keep him here?

"You are aware that you're here because you passed out in the hallway of your apartment and have been ill since, correct?"

Alec nods. "Let me out."

The nurse sighs. "There's nothing we can do to keep you here, but hospitalization does cost money. You need a payment plan, and you need to fill out this sheet first."

Alec glares. "Fine." It's not like he's actually going to do it. He just needs to make a call to the Clave. "I need to make a phone call, first."

* * *

It takes more effort than it should to walk to the elevator that will lead him to the exit of the hospital. Much more concentration than it should take a shadowhunter. But he makes it downstairs, to the exit, and breathes in the (not so) fresh New York air as he hails a cab. He can't walk anywhere like this, and he's going to the Institute, as he need to talk to his family. He'll need as much energy as he can get for that. He didn't, however, account for the awful dizziness that accompanies moving around, and feels rather sick for the entirety of the trip.

When they finally get there, Alec hands the cabbie a twenty and stumbles out of the car. He really doesn't feel very nice, something his body can attest to as he pukes up whatever guts he has left just outside his destination. He takes what feels like an eternity in the darkness of ten at night to collect himself, before he pulls himself together and walks inside, ignoring stabs of pain in his abdomen. There's nothing wrong with him, he can do this. He can do this. Or, at least, he hopes he can.

* * *

When Alec walks into the Institute he gets a rather loud greeting from Church, and that cat cuddles into him (or at least as much as can be expected from this cranky, but lovable cat) before moving away, signaling for him to follow. Alec sighs, knowing that Church probably has the best idea of what to do. Just find them and get this all over with.

He finds his mother in the kitchen, picking at some take-out.

"Did you find your brother?" She asks tiredly, sighing, but not looking up.

Alec takes a deep breath as he feels stupid emotions and slight nausea roll over him. "...I'm back."

Maryse snaps her head up, her dark eyes connecting with his and filling relief, then rage. "Alexander Lightwood! Where have you been!?"

Alec looks away from his mother, not wanting to answer. He's not going to tell her that there's something wrong with him, that he can't take care of himself. "Busy."

Maryse stands up, the expression on her face showing that he clearly doesn't have a good enough excuse, and certainly not one as flimsy as that.

"Do you know how worried we were!? Do you? Couldn't you have picked up a phone, sent your sister a text or given us some damned explanation!? What's wrong with, you, leaving your family like this!" Maryse shrieks, her eyes beginning to water as she fights the obvious urge to cry.

A sticky substance that Alec's guilt produces in his throat prevents him from saying anything, his breathing becoming much more rapid as his mother goes off on him. He didn't want this, he didn't mean this...

"I didn't..." He chokes out, his eyes looking everywhere but at his mother as he stumbles back, and awful feeling sprouting inside him and growing larger as every piece of a second passes.

"What? You didn't mean to worry us?! Well you did! And while you were busy doing _whatever the hell you were doing, _we were worrying about you! While you were having fun with new mundie friends, or maybe shaking up with a new boyfriend, we were trying to find you, hoping you hadn't gotten yourself killed!"

Alec's mouth hangs open for a moment in horror, and his jaw moves but he can't say a word as a tear slides down his cheek. A sudden urge to cough seizes him, but he doesn't, until it explodes up his throat, blood slipping out of his mouth as he grabs the counter for support, his vision dotting with black.

"Alec?" He hears his mother ask, but he's already on the way to the floor as everything spins out of control.

Maybe it would have been for the best if he'd stayed at the hospital.

* * *

Alec awakes to the (sadly) familiar infirmary of the institute, silent bodies around him. His head hurts, and waking up to the disfigured Silent Brothers around him hardly helps. Why are they even here?

_Alexander Lightwood._

Alec nods, nearly as silent as the brothers. Thinking about it,he's surprised that there's one here, with how far their numbers have dwindled since Valentine killed them all. They must have been with Jace, and just dropped by because his mother requested it.

Alec tries to sit up, but finds he can't as pain shoots through his chest and stomach. His body flops back onto the bed, and he feels a wave of nausea. He twists his body to the side as he pukes on the pillow, his breath coming in harsh pants. He didn't feel like this earlier, so why now? It's doesn't make any sense, but it hasn't for a while, has it?

Alec gasps as a grinding starts inside him, and agonizing twist, as if his insides are rubbing up against each other, fighting, pulling all the tricks as they dance back and forth in a hateful ballet of daggers and arrows.

He hardly notices as a hand goes to his forehead, and he's out cold, for what isn't the first time in such a short amount of time.

* * *

When Alec wakes up, he can't feel anything. His body is completely numb, and his emotions seem to be lacking something, but other than that he seems to be normalish. As normal as you can get when you're in a hospital bed with an unknown condition that's eating away at you, anyway. His mom is there, and so is the entirety of his family, minus a father and plus a Clary who's grasping Jace's hand. From their faces, they seem to be expecting him to wake up.

"Alec, I'm sorry," Maryse says, and Alec knows he has to forgive her.

"It's fine..."

"No, I got into contact with the Clave. I said some awful things to you, about where you were, and you were in the hospital the entire time..." There are tears in her eyes as she clings to Alec's hand.

"It's fine."

_Alexander Lightwood._

His family looks up, and Alec turns his head, distantly, and his eyes slowly make their way to a Silent Brother. He nods at the man, slowly, as it's hard to move anything through the deadness of his body.

"Why do I feel so strange?"

_Your mind can't feel the pain of the rest of your body as it destroys itself, as it's doing now._

Alec nods again, unsure of what else he can do. "What's wrong with me?"

_Your body seems to be destroying itself. Your organs are tearing apart to make a new one. This new organ is stealing tissue from the others, and it's not having good don't know exactly what it is, but it's dangerous, whatever it is._

"What can I do?"

_I don't know. This hasn't been seen before. Research must be done._

"I can try to make a rune." Clary suggests, lighting up.

_No. Look at his skin. All of his runes have burned._

Alec looks down at his arms, and true to the Brother's word, there are splattered, pink melted marks on his skin in the shape of runes that used to be there. If Alec, and the Silent Brother, didn't know better, it would look like he'd tried to burn off his marks. What's... _wrong _with him?

_We've never dealt with something like this before. It doesn't seem like we'll be able to remove the... tumor, without seriously injuring or killing you. We need a Warlock who has the power to keep your tissue constantly regenerating until we can figure out the problem. Otherwise, it's very likely that you'll die. There aren't many warlocks with such a power. I suggest you call on Magnus Bane._

**Feelings, anyone?**


	4. Chapter 4 Stop When The Red Lights Flash

**Alec is so fucked. It's fucking fabulous. Anyway, I kind of hate this chapter, don't worry, it should get better but then, I've always sucked at characterization. Fuck it all. And it hasn't even been a month since my last update... I think this might _actually _be a record for this fic. Damn. I'm sorry this is odd. But,**

**I. LOVE. YOU!  
**

**And Alec's character does have a reason for his fuckiness, you'll find out in about three chapters.  
**

"Reality continues to ruin my life."

~Bill Watterson, _The Complete Calvin and Hobbes_

__Restless Heart Syndrome Chapter 4 Stop When the Red Lights Flash

Magnus sighs, looking at the ringing phone. It's business hours, he actually does have to answer it. He can't just lounge around, let it ring out like he's doing right now… With yet another sigh, Magnus magic's the phone to his ear, pressing talk with an impatient roll of his eyes.

"This is the High Warlock of Brooklyn speaking. How may I be of service?" His tone is slightly annoyed, sarcastic in a cold way that it speaks for itself.

"This is the New York Institute, and your service is required." It's a cold voice, steely. Maryse. Alec's mum... No, he won't help them. He doesn't _have _to, after all.

"I'd really rather not." Magnus frowns, going to hang up the phone.

"Please," A crack in that hard voice stops him, and he pulls the phone back up to her ear as an uneven breathing pattern marks the holding back of a sob. "Please, you have to help me. I've already lost one son - I can't lose another."

"What, did Jace put his hand through another window? Because I'm not to be called to assist such a thing." He really can't help but be an asshole, not when it could be Alec who's in trouble. He doesn't want to deal with that. Alec couldn't be hurt, could he? Dread knots up in the warlock's stomach, God, he hopes it's not Alec. "Just use an _Iratze_. Or did you forget how to do even that?"

"No, it's... Alec. Runes aren't working. Nothing is, and we need a warlock. Please, just come over. He's unconscious now, the Silent Brothers gave him something, but he won't be for long and whatever it is isn't getting any better."

"It's going to cost you," Magnus says, and tries to tell himself that the unsettling feeling in his chest will go away, that he'll fix it, that everything will be fine. But maybe it won't be.

"That's fine."

* * *

When Magnus gets to the Institute, a little more hurriedly than he'd like to admit, he's surprised to see the state of the Alec unconscious in the infirmary, unharmed, a white sheet pullet up to his neck. His skin is a bit paler than usual, maybe with a hint of green, and there are dark bags under his eyes, but other than that... he just looks like the Alec Magnus remembers. Alexander Gideon Lightwood, the insecure shadowhunter that could light up a room with his laugh if he'd just let it show. The boyfriend who was afraid to try, wrapped up in a fantasy everyone knew he couldn't stay in. The shadowhunter he helped grow as a person, the man who betrayed him in one of the worst ways possible.

Maryse is at Alec's bedside, a Silent Brother by her side as they talk in their heads, undoubtedly about the person stretched out in front of them.

"Why am I here? He looks just fine, just a bit tired." Magnus comments rudely, with a twist in his gut, snapping them out of whatever conversation as intense gazes locked on a breathing body.

"He's... ill." Maryse says, not turning to face him.

"Cough syrup usually works." The warlock suggests, shrugging. "I don't see why you can't use a rune."

Maryse pulls down the sheet, revealing Alec's scarred, pale chest, light translucent rune marks... splotched and torn, destroyed. As if someone had taken a match to them. Marred. It's a shame, too. They used to be so beautiful, a shine for the eye when his body was covered in sweat as he labored for breath, as he was distracted in one of the more pleasurable ways.

"His organs aren't working. The tissue in them is breaking off, creating massive bleeding and holes as a new organ is created. We don't know what it is. We're hoping that you could keep the tissue regenerating while we figure out what to do about it." Maryse spoke slowly, and it became apparent to Magnus the strain of trying to keep herself together was adding an odd twinge to her speech, a stress he couldn't really describe.

"When?"

"As soon as possible. I don't know how long this has been going on for, just... help him. The only reason he can't feel the ripping right now is because the Brother gave him something."

"Why don't I try to remove it? Magic can do things that shadowhunters can't." It's worth a shot. If he does this job, it's unlikely that it'll be a short little thing. It could last months, however long until they figure out what to do, and tissue regeneration isn't easy business, not at a constant rate anyway.

_It could be dangerous._

The Silent Brother interjects, forcing words into his skull. He hates that. Alec isn't too fond of it, either... But now's not the time for reminiscent thoughts.

Magnus nods. "I'll be careful. If you'll just leave the room, I'll try and work my magic?"

Their answer comes in their exit, and Magnus sighs, pulling the sheet completely off Alec, revealing scruffy dark jeans and bare feet, devoid even of the mismatched gray socks that he usually has. He puts his hand on Alec's chest, sending a trickle of magic through his nervous system, through his bloodstream, trying to figure out what needs fixing and what doesn't belong.

It doesn't take him long to find the invasive organ. It's small, just bigger than the button on his jeans, and nestled down between some very important parts of the digestive system. It's under the large intestine, surrounded by a mangled and dying small intestine. Nearly all the organs along the digestive system are losing cells, giving them to the invader, and it seems to be rotting the organs as it breaks them down to reform itself. That's got to have hurt, and to think, if he'd been called much later Alec might be dead.

Sighing, Magnus focuses some of his magic on repairing the damages, then uses the extension of himself that makes him a warlock to prod around the stubborn organ, tumor, whatever it is, seeing if it'll move. But it seems it's rooted itself quite thoroughly in the small intestine, with what feels like webs tracing to organs it's draining life from. It's like a vampire organ, or something. It's certainly not natural, and it's not something Magnus has ever seen before. Which is quite impressive, if you hide away how annoying and potentially dangerous is could turn out to be. Maybe it'll be simple; just because Magnus didn't know about it before now doesn't mean it has to be insanely difficult. Every plague started out as a cold, easy to cure, but finally turning deadly... Or something. Well. Every plague _didn't_ start out as a cold, not that he cares or anything.

He sends a shock of magic directly to the leech, a spark of blue moving through Alec before it's absorbed by the parasite. Curious, he sends another bolt, and it disappears into the tumor like it's a black hole. Sending magic directly to it is useless for everything, it seems. He'll have to see if he can snip away the chords suspending the unnamed thing to take it out.

Magnus places his hand over Alec's lower-abdomen, his head in a similar spot as his eyebrows knit together in concentration. Slowly, carefully, he send destructive magic into his ex-boyfriend, attempting to cut away the strings that are sucking life from the shadowhunter. A barrier of resistance reaches Magnus, a shield against his magic, something he can't destroy in such a delicate space as Alec's body. It's not going anywhere, which means Magnus isn't, either.

Ah, fuck.

* * *

"What do you mean, he has to be with you?" Maryse demands, her expression making clear her thoughts on the matter.

Magnus sighs, exasperated. "Spells on the mind and body are completely different. It's not like with Clary, he can't just come back every two years to make sure his tissue-regenerating abilities don't fade. If you keep him away from me, away from a constant source of magic, the spell won't work. You can use a supply I give every now and then for the mind and perceptions, but this is physical, this is... _real,_ and it's can't be separated from the source of the magic that's keeping him alive, which is me, for long or it'll go away. Trust me, I don't care for this situation at all, but if I'm getting paid... This is my job, after all."

Maryse frowns. "I don't suppose you'd be open to living here?"

Magnus chuckles, shaking his head. "I _do _have other clients, you know, some of which would not appreciate coming to see all you lovely shadowhunters. They'll be unnerved enough with Alec in my apartment."

Maryse rubs at her temple. "Fine. When he wakes up, take him back to his apartment to get his things. Jace and Isabelle might stop by today or tomorrow. They've been worried."

"His apartment?" Magnus asks, slightly confused. The last time he checked, Alec lived at the institute... It was only a couple, maybe three, weeks ago.

Maryse nods. "He moved out. Didn't want to be here. Actually, he didn't much say why… He might have just been hiding this. Ask him if he knows anything about it when he wakes up, will you?"

Magnus nods.

"We should discuss payment."

* * *

When Alec wakes up, he's surprised that his senses aren't nonexistent but there's no painful stinging in his stomach. It's odd… he feels… normalish. Not sick. Maybe they found a cure. Removed the tumor, or whatever. He'd be happy to have it gone and done with.

His eyes open to the ceiling, and there's a slight breath beside him. He turns his head towards it, and freezes when he sees golden cat eyes staring back.

"Morning, sunshine. Or, night, seeing as it's no longer really daylight hours."

"What..." Why is Magnus here? Is he imagining it?

"I've been called in to deal with that lovely little menace you've got inside you. It's caused quite some trouble."

Alec swallows, his throat dry, eyes averted from the warlock he's pretty sure he still loves."Ah."

Just that syllable is difficult, and a silence that doesn't suit the glitter fest of a warlock stretches on.

Glancing up, Alec realizes that Magnus isn't a glitter bomb today. His hair has hardly any gel, and his make up is limited. His clothes aren't quiet as extravagant, either.

"Why don't you get dressed, so you can pick up all of your things from your apartment?" Magnus suggests, looking at the pale face of the teen.

"Why?"

"You're living with me until this is sorted. Your tissue won't regenerate if I'm not around."

It's almost like a train filled with every emotion hits him, but he just nods slowly, pulling on the socks and boots he finds a the end of his bed. Realizing he doesn't have a shirt he starts his search for one, and soon enough the two of them are leaving the institute for Alec's apartment, a swirl of unpleasantness lingering resolutely in their bodies.

* * *

Alec feels dizzy as he reaches the top of the stairs, a nausea he can't shake as the halls dance in front of him. He knows what's coming, and pulls out his keys, trying to rush for the door as he hears Magnus behind him complaining about the stairs, like Jace did. And yet they claim not to be similar... But it hardly matters, because Alec's finally gotten the door open, and he can finally get to the toilet. He can already feel the vomit creeping up his throat, and he lets it as he shoves his head in front of the toilet. A few seconds later he can feel Magnus's presence behind him, watching him as he vomits.

After he's done, Alec flushes the toilet and washes his teeth, not feeling as ill when the disgusting taste of his own insides are replaced by the mint flavor of his tooth paste.

"Does this happen often?" Magnus asks, leaning on the door frame.

Alec nods, not wanting to speak to Magnus. He doesn't want to say something he'll regret, so he just keeps everything on a simmer because he can. He doesn't feel as ill, as awful as he has the last two weeks. All he needed was Magnus, like something out of one of the fairy tales he studied in his classes with Jace and Isabelle.

* * *

Alec sighs, wanting more than anything to have to go put his things in one of the guest rooms. But he can't, because Magnus had zapped them away along with Alec's hopes of maybe being left alone to think about everything that's happened. Instead they're both in the living room, Magnus in a plush armchair and Alec in the corner of the couch. They have to talk. Neither want to, but they _have _to. It'll help Alec get better, and thus gone sooner and less stress on both of their minds.

"Any other symptoms besides puking?" Magnus asks, gripping a cup of steaming tea. Doesn't matter if it's late; he's going to be up all night anyway, plagued by riddled thoughts and uncertainties, questions about what he can do to help and how this even happened in the first place.

"No." Being horribly depressed doesn't count, does it? "Actually, I fainted."

Magnus's eyes knit together. "When?"

"A few days ago the first time. I went to a mundie hospital, my neighbor called them or something... That's when the runes burned away. When I went to the institute it happened again, while Maryse was yelling at me." One of Alec's longest speeches.

"When did it start?"

"A bit after you... after we broke up."

"Hm. And emotionally?" Why, why did Magnus have to ask?

Alec gives a weak smile. "As well as can be expected, I guess."

He gets up, leaving to the room he automatically assumes his stuff will be in. He's right, of course, to walk into the place of baby blue walls and a desk he can remember doing things with Magnus on. Suddenly, at a loss for breath, Alec sits down on the bed and pulls his hands over his eyes. He's begun to cry.

How pathetic.

* * *

The next morning Alec doesn't wake up and think, like any idiot in a story, that he's still with Magnus and things are good. He doesn't lack a memory of the last weeks, and he makes his way hesitantly to the kitchen, fully dressed. He doesn't want to seem too comfortable around Magnus, because he's not anymore. He doubts that things could ever be the same as they were before fighting and stupidity and _trust _got in their way.

He's glad he got dressed, though,when he walks through the living room (to get to the kitchen) and there's a werewolf there, telling the High Warlock of Brooklyn about how he needs this vampire cursed because of some problem Alec doubts Magnus even cares about. As he makes his way into the kitchen, awkwardly nodding at both werewolf and warlock, he can still hear their conversation as he helps himself to the coffee machine.

He hears Magnus use pretty words and logic to convince the werewolf against the curse, and Alec feels a bit proud of Magnus. He smiles a bit, the smile you get when you're stuck in a little bubble. He stops smiling, however, when the bubble is popped and he knows he has no reason to smile, to feel proud. He and Magnus are hardly speaking. He's just a job for the warlock, like the whining werewolf on the couch next to where Alec was sitting last night. Nothing more, not now and never again.

But he misses it. He misses warmth in his chest that some people call happiness, he misses moods that don't turn and churn like a restless ocean. He misses the kisses, enjoying the only manufactured smell that doesn't make him want to vomit, the making up for stupid fights. Hell, he even misses those fights. But he has to let go. He _has _to. Soon, he'll be better. His heart won't hurt, and whatever is stealing his life away will be gone. He'll live his life as a shadowhunter, and he might be entirely alone.

But that's probably just what's meant for any child of the angels that dares to like the same sex. Like so many things, it can't be helped.

* * *

It's been a week, and Alec's not very comfortable. It's not just this odd sense of something foreign, likely Magnus's magic, washing over him, either.

Jace and Isabelle have been by, Isabelle more than once, and they're getting along. Isabelle doesn't wear any perfume when she comes over, as Alec told her it made him ill, and they're relationship is a bit different from before. Isabelle is forgiving, but slightly guarded, in a way Alec suspects isn't completely conscious. She tells him about what's happening outside of the apartment, as he hasn't yet left because Magnus hasn't. She doesn't talk too much about Simon, though sometimes she does, but she tells him that the Silent Brothers don't know what's wrong with him, even with the lis of symptoms Magnus gave them. They're going to be visiting, soon. But Jace is still on fire and that's also still a problem holding them up.

When Jace stops by, he just tells Alec that things won't go to the ducks. An odd way of expressing his feelings, but that's apparently Jace for you. Well, Jace is mostly for Clary, something Alec cares less about now than he did at the beginning. As long as she doesn't get him killed.

"How are you?" Magnus asks, and Alec looks up over the top of the book he found in Magnus's library. The only thing that's kept him anywhere close to sane over the past few days. Angel, he's so happy that books exist. And that Magnus seems to like some of them that aren't written in a script he can't read.

"Fine," Alec mutters, going back to his book. He doesn't want to talk to Magnus, he really doesn't.

Magnus nods, but he's invisible to Alec. "Vomiting much?

"Only every day," Alec says, hardly friendly at all. He's just pissed right now. Unbelievable, horribly pissed. Because Magnus is an asshole. Because he's been depressed, and now he's stuck to the person who broke his bruised heart into little globs of flesh. Magnus is annoying. He should just go away, leave Alec alone.

"No need to be snippy."

It's the last straw. Whatever berries filled Alec's basket of patience are gone, lost in a blind rage.

"No need to be snippy?" Alec asks, then slams the book down on the table. "NO NEED TO BE FUCKING SNIPPY? I hate being here, I hate being around you now! It just reminds me of what I screwed up, of what I lost. Of course I'm going to be fucking snippy!"

Magnus is silent for a moment, then he speaks, his voice cold.. "It's not easy for me, either. I'm doing this to get paid. You're doing it because you just don't want to die."

Alec bursts into tears, falling to the ground. "Maybe I don't want to be alive any more."

Hardly even giving him a second to react, Alec's insides are unforgiving as they attempt to rid themselves of the burden that is Alec by forcing themselves up his throat. he hardly makes it to the bathroom before he's puking again. He's crying, and his stomach contents are expelling themselves and it's nothing if not a fucking mess. Alec's spent, emotionally, and all he wants to do is curl into a ball and die when he sees Magnus at the door, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed.

"Have your emotions been unstable lately?"

"I don't know what you're fucking talking about." Alec says, hardly in the mood for this.

Magnus sighs. "You do realize that you just went from complacent, to screaming, to bawling in about a minute, right?"

"Hardly your business." Alec spits, putting toothpaste on his brush.

"It is my business. It could be a symptom." Magnus is annoyed, and trying not to be hurt, because it might not even be entirely Alec's fault, and he has to wait two minutes for an answer because Alec's got the brush in his mouth and is apparently very determined to scrub away his enamel.

"Considering the circumstances, my emotions have been fine."

"Really?"

Alec sighs. "Just leave me alone, will you? I doubt depression and bitterness are symptoms of anything serious."

Magnus raises an eyebrow. "Bitter and depressed... Hurt your family and not really felt bad about it?"

Alec freezes, before exiting the bathroom. "I said it's none of your business," He whispers as he passes his sparkly ex-boyfriend.

Magnus sighs once he's gone. Why does everything have to be so fucking difficult?

* * *

Magnus wonders if his magic is being used much on Alec's body. It's been a month, and he's curious about it. He's still puking, and his moods are shifting so dramatically it's almost like he's a teenager going through puberty (but worse). Admittedly, testing it by removing the magic altogether isn't the best idea. But he'll be able to regenerate him if problems arise, and likely they won't be immediate. He'll just stop the cells' regeneration and if they do go back to eating away at Alec, it should be gradual, like it was before Magnus had a part in everything.

No harm, no foul. He doesn't tell the shadowhunter what he's about to do, he just does it. One moment Magnus is watching Alec, from the kitchen and out of sight, reading a book, the next the book is dropped as the spell is unwoven and Alec starts to pant.

His breath comes in sharp pants, and there's an odd gushing sound coming from him. The teen is too surprised to bite back the scream that ripples through him, and falls off the couch and onto the soft carpet. Magnus rushes over, alarmed at what his charge's reaction is, and takes one look at Alec's face, his mouth dripping with blood, before he puts his head to Alec's stomach and pushes his magic through.

It's wrong, though. In those few seconds, Alec's insides have been screwed up somehow. The terrorist of stolen cells is attached to his digestive tract, and there are giant chunks around the now larger than before tumor, or whatever it is.

Alec's unconscious, so Magnus carries him to the guest bedroom, promising himself to never try that again.

**Actually, I think you should reread the parts where Alec's with Magnus and play Love Me Dead by Ludo while you do. Love that song.**


	5. Chapter 5 Stray Heart

**I would not be surprised if you saw this in your inbox and thought someone was pranking you. Or were bewildered and the thought 'what the fuck...' went through your head for a good five minutes. **

**Let me explain.**

**My Chemical Romance came out with a single on Oct. 31st, and I finally got it. And in order to not start writing a million MCR fics, I had to channel all of my plot bunnies somewhere. Combined with reaching a ten review per chapter average, this became the lucky fic. So many fucking plot bunnies. I might just have to start another fic, forgive me if I do. It'll probably be channeled into TMI.**

**But anyfuck, I don't know when the next chapter will be, my play opens this week.**

**Oh, has anyone noticed my new cover yet? You can hardly read it, but it looks really badass in person. (I have it on the cover of my writing binder.)**

**I DON'T OWN.**

"It is sad not to love, but it is much sadder to not be able to love."

~Miguel de Unamuno

Restless Heart Syndrome Chapter 5 Stray Heart

Saying Alec Lightwood is happy is not really a true statement. To say that feeling your insides tear up and shift over, to feel them… _fucking _around in his is a wonderful and awe-inspiring is just as stupid and blatantly untrue of a statement. To feel something curl around inside you, to tear apart and make new connections, to steal away at the parts that keep you breathing… It's hardly a wonder why it's unpleasant. And with such a sudden onslaught, of course he was surprised. With all the slashes his insides were taking, the internal bleeding flooding through him with plans of flooding him it's only natural that it was a rush and he passed out from the suddenness of it.

When Alec wakes up, he certainly isn't happy. He's shaken, and doesn't know exactly what to expect as he wakes up in the room he's been inhabiting for the last month or so. He doesn't expect an apology from Magnus, Hell, he doesn't even really expect Magnus to _be _there, but he is, in some chair he probably conjured up because he didn't want to drag one in.

"I'm sorry." They're the first words that assault Alec's ears when his eyes adjust to the light, and though them he sees an apprehensive Magnus, his eyebrows tense and bottom lip being worried on like a hole in the bottom of a pocket. It's… surprising. Along with the fact that he doesn't really hurt, besides an odd ache in his hips.

"Why?" Alec asks, blinking. It's not like Magnus did this too him…

"I wanted to try something."

Or not. Alec sighs, because it's frustrating. To be toyed with like this, does he get no stability? "You wanted to try something? Magnus, what you did could have been dangerous."

"I know," The warlock admits. "I thought you might be okay if I took the magic away. Even if you weren't, I didn't expect it to be so sudden..

"So it's my fault, then?" Alec snaps, his blood suddenly running hot like a tap that's been molded into a running faucet. One with no control over the 'on' switch, it seems.

"I didn't say that, I just meant—"

"I get it, Magnus. Just... leave me alone, please."

After a moment of hesitation, he does leave, but with a deep fear etched into his mind. A voice in the back of his mind, a little warning he refuses to believe could be true. It's a possibility, but it's not going to happen. He's not going to let it appen, he's going to keep Alec on his magic for the rest of the shadowhunter's life if he has to.

_He's going to die._

* * *

Worry is a word Magnus would use to describe his feelings towards Alec at the moment. Frustrated, because he's worried and not knowing is just plain insulting to his pride. Annoyed, Magnus is also, because the Silent Brothers and the Lightwoods keep stoppng by his house, giving him no new information and acting like they're better than him, when he's the one keeping the shadowhunter alive. If it wasn't Alec who was ill, and if he didn't care about angering the Clave, he would stop regenerating his charge's tissue just to spite them. The glares from Isabelle are just as unwelcome as the sharp words from Jace, and sometimes, just as tiring as Alec is himself.

He goes from one mood to another, with no rhyme, no reason. He won't sit in one place long, but won't stand long either. He's restless, he's ill and bordering on unstable. He won't let Magnus back into his life, either. It's for the best, Magnus knows. Alec tried to kill him, and Magnus was his first boyfriend. It's hardly a simple situation, especially with the added stress of an unknown ailment that could quite possibly kill him, and not just if he strays from the warlock. Whatever's happening could mutate, and that could be it. The end. The final page of the storybook.

When Magnus looks at Alec, something inside him just pulls down on his mind, a sadness that he's experienced before. He's not going to get over Alec anytime soon, he knows, but... He has forever to find someone else, someone less complicated. Someone less dangerous, someone who won't go behind his back in an act of betrayal like Alec did.

* * *

Alec likes hanging out with Jace, when he drops by for a chat. He doesn't, however, like how consistently Clary is in the conversation. Jace can come by and tell him about how the Silent Brothers think they might be close to getting his flame extinguished, with Alec only feeling a little bitter about the situation, but talking about Clary... is something else entirely.

Sitting in Alec's ex-boyfriend's living room, with Jace telling him about Clary-this and Clary-that hardly holds his attention. Rarely even touches it, unless she's doing something completely stupid. Which she is now, going on more and more hunts with a Jace that could lose himself in the fire at any moment. Lose himself to the Heavenly Fire and be gone forever. It's stupid, it's reckless, and something Jace would never say no to. Certainly not when his fiery haired girlfriend asks him.

But that's hardly the worst of it. Not only is Jace doing stupid things with his stupid girlfriend, but he's doing it without Alec. Alec won't be able to look out for him, catch him if he falls, that sort of thing. And with the way Jace is talking about Clary, it sounds as if his position of _parabatai_ is quickly being taken over. Even if he can't do anything about it, it still hurts. He's useless, once again. Story of his life.

"-And she pulled out her stele, and BAM! it was like-"

"Jace, I don't care." Alec says moodily, his face tilted down to hide the wetness of his eyes. His hair hasn't been cut recently, so it's a good length for hiding even without his face turned down. And now, he really has to hide this bitterness before it takes control of him.

"Did you wake up on the wrong side of the magic carpet?" Jace jokes, snapping away at Alec's patience like a starving animal for food.

"I sleep in a bed, not a magic carpet." Alec says, his voice straining for calm. He needs to keep cool. He doesn't need to blow the top off of his imaginary tea pot.

"Not shacking up with the Warlock, then? I'm surprised, I thought you two-"

"SHUT UP. It's none of your business, Jace."

"No need to get your knickers in a twist. It's not like it's a hard life in here. You're getting all taken care of." Jace says, rolling his eyes.

"I'm here because if I'm not I'll die, Jace! Do you really think I'd be living with my ex if I could help it!?"

"Just kiss and make up. It's not that hard." Jace shrugs. "People do it all the time."

"Fuck off," Alec says, and his response surprises Jace into a moment of silence, long enough for another voice to interrupt them.

"No squabbles in my apartment, please. Jace, if you're going to cause a ruckus, leave." Magnus appears at the entrance to the living room from the hallway.

"You don't get to kick Jace out," Alec says, despite wanting Jace gone rather obviously.

"Au contraire, it's my house. My rules."

"But I'm living here too, and he's my brother!" Alec protests. He's not sure where the passion is coming from, maybe from his aching hips, but he doesn't want Magnus to win this arguement. Like he used to win _everything _back when they were together, one way or another.

"Like I care," Magnus shrugs. "He's being annoying, so he has to leave."

Jace shrugs, and goes to the door. "See you tomorrow," He calls as he exits.

"You shouldn't have kicked him out." Alec mutters, folding his arms and curling up into the couch.

"He was upsetting you."

"And that was hardly any of your business. It's not like it would affect you; me getting upset isn't going to change the tissue regeneration thing."

"It does affect me, Alec." Magnus protests, sitting next to the pouting shadowhunter on the couch.

Alec sighs, exasperated. He's tired, and not in the mood for cryptic answers. "And how does it affect you?"

"Because I still care about you."

The part that really breaks Alec up is that he knows it's true. He knows it's true, and he can't explain to Magnus that he loves him too, because Magnus already knows but he doesn't care. He won't listen to any explanation Alec gives because he's already made up his mind about what the shadowhunter was doing with Camille.

"So what? You can say 'I love you' to me all you want, but it's not any of your business what I feel anymore. You ended that, not me, so please Magnus, don't taunt me. Don't share with me what I can't have. It's cruel."

Magnus is silent, studying Alec's defeated eyebrows and bitter frown, the blue eyes he used to always say he loved tainted with hurt.

"I'm sorry," He offers.

"Not good enough," Alec says, uncurling and standing up, moving slowly back to his room. As soon as he's out of eyesight, he pulls his sleeve up to his face. He wants to cry so badly, but he doesn't. He can't. Not again. But he does, because there's something inside him telling him that Magnus is worth it. There's no logical reason for thinking it, but it's there, nestled in along with the poisonous truth that reads 'I love Magnus Bane.'

He hates this, and he's hardly the only one.

* * *

The Silent Brothers have finally made enough time to visit Alec. Though when they get there, they don't expect to be facing one of the biggest fights between the couple that the apartment has ever seen.

It's started because of them, actually. Magnus was tired of the Brothers taking their sweet time, and Alec was defending them as a member of the Clave, though he was in agreeance. But he had to hold on to some part of his inheritance somehow, because it was slipping further and further away the longer he stayed imprisoned in the warlock's home. The only normalcy was seeing various downworlders come in for a request, or going with Magnus to stalk up on supplies, which had only really happened twice and wasn't very pleasant either time.

Neither expected their patience to snap like it did. They didn't expect to be hurling verbal abuse at each other, seething in anger when the Silent brothers came. It was more of an accident, and they were chest to chest, moments away from seeing white when the Brothers pulled them apart, calming their minds or something. Whatever it was, they were both calm within a minute, but Alec had to run to the bathroom to puke up his lunch. He's been having less problems with vomiting recently, and he figures it's about time, as it's been two months since he first became dependent on Magnus. A lot longer than two months, if you count emotional dependency, but Alec hardly wanted to think about that. He still did, though, all the time. It was his mind's favorite topic, along with the unknown_ thing _developing inside him.

_Does this happen often?_

The Silent Brother asks, the wordless understanding unnerving Alec, as it always does.

"Not this badly." Alec bites out, clearly still a bit upset, the calm washing away, something the Silent Brother can only furrow his brow at. He should still be under its effect... How odd.

The Silent Brother nods, and requests a place where Alec can lay for an examination. Alec leads the two Brothers to his room uncertainly, not sure if he wants them in, but lets them, finally, deciding that they're only here to help. He sits on his bed, shifting uncomfortably. He doesn't like sitting much anymore, it's become increasingly disagreeable as of late.

He pulls off his shirt as he's instructed, and attempts to keep his face from flaming red, when he lies down on the Brothers' orders. It feels much better on his hips, but pain shoots through him when the Brothers poke and prod around his abdomen. His stomach area has swollen out a bit, he notices for the first time, and not for the last time he wonders what it could be. He wonders if it's going to kill him, and he wonders how it happened. He wants to know exactly what it's doing to him and why.

_If we could find another warlock, would you be open to moving?_

Alec has to think on the Brother's suggestion for a while. It would mean leaving Magnus, which would mean, well, leaving Magnus. A nice change of pace, actually. But... He'd miss the warlock, he really would, even if he hardly even admits that he wants to be near Magnus.

_We could look. It wouldn't be immediate, but it seems you're not the safest here._

Alec bites his lip, before answering in an uncertain tone. "Yes."

It'll be nerve-wrecking, for sure, but maybe it would be good for him. It would let him get away, it would be like when he got the apartment, except it would likely last longer. He could forget about Magnus, try to move on from the glitter bomb that needs to learn to have a little faith.

Yes, he would be okay with leaving the rips and tears that bleed just a little every time he looks at the walls that box him in with his memories.

**Sorry it's so short, but that's how the chapter was planned! Until next time, m'dears! **


	6. Chapter 6 My Lovenote Has Gone Flat

**Got this little thing out earlier than expected… I looked at my chapter outline and realized I had written nothing of use. It was fantastic.**

**You have to thank my photography teacher for this one, we use computers and this is all I've been doing for the last three days and no one gives a fuck. It's fabulous. Ah, and thank the kid in my name called Malik. (No, really. There's a kid named Malik in my class and every time I see him I feel bad for not writing.)**

**Sorry it's short, the next one should be longer, because next chapter isn't really a filler. (You'll finally get to find out what's wrong with Alec.)**

"Love never dies a natural death. It dies because we don't know how to replenish its source. It dies of blindness and errors and betrayals. It dies of illness and wounds; it dies of weariness, of withering, of tarnishing."

~Anais Nin

Restless Heart Syndrome Chapter 6 My Lovenote Has Gone Flat

Alec's sides hurt, but not in an immediate way. It's an ache, something he's constantly rubbing at, hoping he can rub it away. It's just one of the changes he's found himself afflicted with.

He's also become somewhat of a neat freak, tidying up this and that. Organizing the couch pillows from smallest to largest, getting annoyed at Magnus's customers for tracking mud into the apartment. He remembers when Magnus used to get mad at him for the same reason, but he never really got just how annoying it was until recently. Maybe his cleanliness started because he wanted to make it up to Magnus for when he behaved awful, and about how he said he'd rather live and depend on a different warlock if he could. He doesn't want to anymore, not after thought.

He's been with Magnus at a near constant for the last three months, and though it can be depressing Alec doesn't dislike it. Magnus puts up with his moods, he keeps Alec alive in a less metaphorical sense than he used to. He'll magic in mouthwash when Alec's used the last of it up, something that happens at a much quicker rate than it did before Alec was vomiting so often. It's actually begun to decrease, how often Alec finds himself running for the toilet, but it still happens every now and then.

The Silent Brothers haven't visited him since that first time. Busy with Jace, and their attempt to rid him of the Heavenly Fire. It didn't work, so they're back to their books, ignoring the ill adult for the golden boy, the one with angel blood humming strong I his veins. Alec would be lying if he said he didn't expect such discrimination, but he's trying to stop lying. It's what got him into such a mess with Magnus in the first place, and he doesn't need a repeat of such an episode. Not that they can break up, or even stop getting along, because they're neither dating nor getting along.

They fight constantly, over the smallest things, and it's awkward to be around one another and not say anything. They're brewing their own apocalypses, and it would be something either one of Alec's siblings would love to watch in the cinema if it wasn't their brother playing one of the leads. But it is Alec playing the ill character who is shoved together with his ex-lover, both of whom want nothing, yet everything, to do with each other.

It's a bad predicament all around, especially with the anxiety of the Silent Brothers calling to have him moved weighing in Alec's mind.

Alec wants to make whatever he has with Magnus better, but he doesn't want to get hurt. Magnus just wants to forget about what he had with Alec and move on, but he can't. They're screwed, but not in the literal sense of the word. Maybe if they _were _screwing their problems would go away.

Alec's never been one much for mirrors, or at least not exuberantly so. Isabelle might have commented on this, or complained, but it wasn't something that had ever really changed. Alec was used to pulling on an oversized sweater and running a hand through his hair and then being out the door. He'd never felt an overwhelming urge to stare at his reflection for what seems like hours on end.

Now, though, he can hardly look away from the plate of glass that will show him the backward image of himself. Tilting his body from left to right, trying to get as many angles as possible, he stares at his body in the mirror. Sometimes he'll wear grey sweaters that used to be three sizes too baggy but are now only a size or so off. Sometimes he won't wear his shirt, and he'll gaze, transfixed, on the protruding skin of his abdomen. The skin isn't pale, like it used to be, but yellowy brown, similar to a healing bruise. It's ugly, the line that runs from the end of his sternum to his bellybutton. It cuts him in half, making him think it could be a prelude of what might be coming.

Maybe this disease, this infection, whatever it is, will rip him apart with no remorse like this line suggests in a very loud subtext. He's afraid of it, whatever it is. It could kill him, and it would have already if Magnus hadn't been giving him magic to regenerate his battered insides.

It's a fear that keeps him in front of the mirror. It's fear, a terrible weight on his mind and body, that makes his heart stop every time he so much as gets an ache in his abdomen. It's fear, something that he finally stopped being a constant when he kissed Magnus in the Clave's presence, that returns with a renewed weight to gnaw on every idea he holds firmly in his calloused hands. Hands that used to be rougher, more fitting of a man in his profession. A profession that he hasn't had anything to do with in far too long.

Alec's making himself breakfast, a cup of tea and toast smeared with Jam. He hasn't much been a fan of coffee recently, the smell causing his nose to wrinkle in disgust. Too strong, but tea is a good substitute. It's odd how he can't help but drink caffeine, when all he wants to do is sleep until someone can figure out what's wrong with him. He'll probably lie in bed and read all day, or continue to teach himself to cook with one of Magnus's cookbooks. Anything to cure him of his boredom, this restlessness. Magnus seems to appreciate the smell of baking, and occasionally the taste when he gets it right. It makes Alec feel guilty that it pleases him, but it hardly seems as though he can help it.

This odd kitchen thing, baking and cooking, seem to be helping them get along. Ever since Alec cracked open a cookbook and came bounding across the hallways, laughing, with a bowl of correctly made, not-burned pasta with correctly colored sauce, too proud of himself not to tell Magnus in the moment of happiness, there have been fewer fights. The look on Magnus's face when he first saw Alec in that burst of happiness lingered in Alec's mind, and he wanted to see it again. It didn't matter if they weren't dating, in that moment, because his love for the warlock would still exist and of that he was sure.

The surprise, then the amusement and a chuckle. It was a perfect moment, and it reverberated in Alec's skull, made him realize that it was how he wanted to live. He didn't want to be at odds with Magnus, not in the least. He wanted them to get along like butter on the bread Alec didn't set on fire with his culinary skills (or lack thereof).

He didn't even feel sick from bouncing around in the halls like a Mundie child on Christmas morning. He was too distracted by the moment he'd had with Magnus, who agreed to eat a helping of his first culinary success.

"Not bad, for a shadowhunter," The words made Alec light up. They weren't mean, they were a sign of approval. Even the next bit, "maybe less salt in the future," hardly made a dent in the happiness Alec's brain was providing. It was just… perfect, for a second.

For a moment, there was no one with glue-covered hands trying to shove his life back together, and he could hardly remember that he'd fallen apart in the first place. You couldn't see empty spaces, or the cracks where a piece was still missing. It made him want to keep coking for Magnus, to keep a nice attitude between them.

Alec found it hard, he discovered, on later attempts, for him to work with certain things. Anything too strong and bitter smelling could send him to the bathroom, puking. Things smelled stronger than they used to, and sometimes Magnus was one of those things. Sometimes he just couldn't stand the Warlock's smell, and had to shoo him away.

Magnus was nearly offended at first, Alec could tell, but left it, likely assuming it was just more mood swings. It was later, when Magnus found Alec running from a tin of sardines he had opened, intent on making this 'Canned Sardines and Mango Sprout Frittata' recipe he had found, whatever that was, in one of the cook books that had appeared in the library recently (Coincidence? Alec thinks not.), that Magnus started to suspect Alec's occasional aversion to him could be more than just mood swigs. He asked, one night, over a meal Alec had made, and Alec confirmed it, throwing both of their minds into the whirl with the realization of an added symptom.

What could be wrong with the shadowhunter?

Sometimes Alec wonders if Magnus has any friends. Not in a cruel sort of way, but more in a general curiosity. He should probably know better than to be curious, but he hasn't seen anyone but clients in the time Alec's been there. There were never really friends before, either, just people he would talk to more than the others at parties.

Parties that Magnus doesn't throw anymore, parties he doesn't go to.

It's odd to Alec, looking back, to see the lack of festivities his host is providing. When they were dating, Alec was used to sometimes finding the apartment filled with bodies he didn't recognize and music that was even more alien. Now, the only bodies that come through the door that door are people looking to employ the High Warlock of Brooklyn and Alec's own relations, when they could spare the time, which was rare enough. They're still dealing with the aftermath of the mess in Idris, then with Sebastian… Who is still, regrettably, absent from the executioner's block.

No bright lights, less sparkle, no transformed apartment. No accidentally drinking the aftermath of the bar in the morning and having to stay over until he can se straight. No one to care if he's Magnus's boyfriend, because there's no one around to watch him with judging eyes.

Not a single party in a span of three months.

"Why don't you throw parties anymore?" It's decidedly the best way to figure it out. Ask him, maybe he'll answer. Maybe not. The warlock doesn't exactly have the best track record with that.

Magnus sighs, looking up from the script he's been trying to decipher. "Some of us have to work."

Alec frowns, because that's not it. Magnus would push off work for a party then have to cram it before. "Really?"

"Yes, really. Now leave me alone, I'm working."

It was a dismissal, Alec is sure, as he's been dismissed by the warlock before on a day when Magnus was rather stressed. The black haired adult would rather not stop here, and continues the conversation like he didn't notice that Magnus wants to be left alone.

"I don't think it's that," Alec admits, leaning against the library doorframe.

"Congrats," Magnus quips, his eyes on the paper but not moving. He's only pretending to read now. He's been distracted, Alec notes with a small smile.

"So what is it?" Alec asks.

"I don't feel like it," Magnus says, looking up. "I don't want you to be at a party I throw just so I can try and move on from you."

Alec nods, leaving. That's… not what he was expected, he realizes, moving to the kitchen, his default setting as of late. He wasn't even aware that he was expecting something, but he was. He wanted an answer that would paint Magnus as a bad guy, or an answer that would be as simple as a shrug, It could have been, if Alec didn't know the warlocks reactions the way that he does. But he does know Magnus, or his responses at least, and now he's left with the stirring image, the painful idea of what he's lost. And like when you lose anything else, it was an accident. A stupid, unexplained accident that will never be told. Alec won't say his thoughts to the warlock, he won't tell the man he loves that it wasn't only Magnus's trust that was shattered.

Magnus doesn't want to listen, so he won't tell. The Warlock said it himself; it won't change anything


	7. Chapter 7 The Webs We Weave

**Ugh. It's snowing, this chapter doesn't do me proud and I'm in my boxers. How wonderful.**

**This chapter... Ugh. You'll probably all stop reading now, and be like 'WTF?' then curse me to hell... actually, some of you already know. But you'll get it in about ten seconds, before Alec does. After the first line break...**

**Okay, so this wasn't very long. I wanted it to be longer, but it's confusing enough as it is. I'll let it all sink in, then you can decide if you want to keep reading (There are only three or so chapters left anyway). Ugh. I feel like it's awful. It probably is. I'm horrible with actionesque scenes, and I'm pretty sure the word 'smoosh' doesn't actually exist. Buttfuckit. Lols. I'm feeling that this story needs some buttfucks. But they're all broken up and sad and shit. Ah. I need to rant about this. I'll leave you in peace before I go off.**

**Cooking Alec activate! Seriously, though, of all things, cooking? Really bitchbot, really? **

**Love you all!**

"I want to show that the dividing lines between sanity and mental illness have been drawn in the wrong place."

~Anthony Storr

Restless Heart Syndrome Chapter 7 The Webs We Weave

Alec's eyes widen as he gasps, his the orbs becoming larger in surprise and terror as he grasps the granite counter, his legs quickly becoming unsteady and useless as he sinks to the tiled floor of the kitchen. His breath comes in shudders, a panicked frenzy that stinks of foul fear. His muscles spasm again, and his hand goes to the protesting bump on his abdomen. The ghost of a burn is there as the sensation stops, the uncanny feeling of a light hit on the insides welding itself into Alec's memories, a sharp tack in the blur that the last few weeks have been.

It takes Alec a moment to convince himself that he's not dying, that nothing else is happening. He's not going to start bleeding on the insides. He doesn't even hurt anymore, it's just a phantom now. He's fine. It's nothing, not even something he needs to tell Magnus about. He's okay, it was just a shock or something. The repercussions of not working out anymore. Of not being able to work out anymore, not really, from the insides of Magnus's flat and the insides of his own demented body. The inability to do anything. His complete and utter uselessness. The fact that cooking is all he's really living for anymore, it's a depressing thought, especially when his comrades are on the streets, risking their lives every day. When he's stuck, locked in time and this apartment, when his family is potentially dying around the casing of brick he's confined to.

Nothing like this has ever happened to him, neither the utter sense of true uselessness or the paroxysms that he was suddenly afflicted with. He's always felt deficient, but the emptiness was much fuller than this. He's felt muscle pains, attacks on the sanity of nature's workmanship picking away at his muscles, but never has something from within him resembled a blow so much. Nothing natural. No matter. This might bring about new ideas, new trains of thought, but still, it changes nothing. His clockwork is still winding, it still has that rhythmic ticking. You can still hear the clock of his body, the pendulum swinging back and forth in a nearly sadistic marker of time. The metronome doesn't stop just because a new beat has been introduced, or because a beat was skipped. There are changes, of course, but change is inevitable. Change made Alec who he is today, though some of those changes might be regrettable. Regrettable.

In that moment, melted onto the kitchen floor, Alec lies flat on his back with his limbs spread out and laughs. "Regrettable."

Because really, it is.

* * *

"She's having the pups!" The grainy, but desperate voice shouts through the intercom, and in a split second Magnus is up from the dinner table and out the door, going to help the ringer personally. Alec's confused for a second, then a wild-eyed looking woman barges in with the warlock and a man whose arm is wrapped around her, keeping her up. He stomach is bulged, and her brow covered with sweat.

"Alec, get a spare room ready!" Magnus demands, and Alec runs (albeit a bit slowly) to the nearest unoccupied room, throwing open the door and stripping the bed of its everything but the sheets and its pillows. "Towels and hot water," Magnus calls as he settles the woman in, and Alec puts on the kettle as he rushes about looking for as many towels as he can, stripping the bathroom and the closet before dumping them back with the warlock.

The woman is spread out on the bed, naked, her legs pulled apart and arms clutching the bed as she takes deep breaths. Her expression erupts with pain as she cries out, then it's gone, and her breathing is heavy and laboured. She's in labor, he realizes. The bulge in her belly is a baby, or 'pups.' Multiples. It kind of makes him want to faint, but the wail of the boiling of the kettle brings him back to reality. He gets to it, and brings the pot back to Magnus, uncertain about what he should do with it.

"Fill a tub, you idiot," Magnus snaps, and for the half of a second that their eyes meet Magnus's are filled with annoyance. He's working, Alec understands. Alec's in the way.

The feeling is gone a moment later, though, when the gold cat-eyes soften up. "We're going to need to clean it."

Alec nods and leaves, looking frantically for a container to fit it in. After a minute of searching without finding anything, he mourns for a moment before pulling out the largest pot he can find. One that's not too deep, but plenty wide. It should do, it would be unfortunate if it didn't because it's the extent of what Alec can find. He pours the water in, and the evaporating liquid hardly covers the bottom more than an inch. He puts the kettle on and carries the pot into the guest room, lest he have to carry it when it's full.

The woman cries out as he sets the vessel down, and he can't help but turn his head to look at her. One of her hands is gripping the man who appeared with her, her head is tilted back as she pants for breath. A layer of sweat coats her, and her back arches slightly as another contraction comes. Closer to each other now, Alec doesn't really know what that means. But it looks like it hurts, and she whimpers that it does. Her swollen breasts smoosh against her chest, falling against her pained body as she fights for air. Her stomach overlaps the skin a few inches above her sex, the body bloated with life looks uncomfortable and nearly desperate as she struggles to wade through the pain.

As Alec walks back to the kitchen, he can't help but feel pity for the female race. Having to push something out of your genitals., hurting like that woman... doesn't look fun. It doesn't look like the miracle people around him have always said it to be. It looks awful. That, and the effects that it would take on you beforehand? Alec brings the boiling kettle back to the room, adding the water to the pot. He looks at the downworlder, the werewolf, and wonders why anyone would ever want to go through that. Why would anyone ever want to experience so much pain?

You'd be out of training for months. Though it wouldn't be the case with everyone, there could be vomiting and mood swings, not to mention the odd looking bulge. It would be awful. It would be awful. If Alec was pregnant, he'd be miserable. He wouldn't have Magnus, but he would be overly emotional and prone to constant puking. He would get sick of his family on a whim, he'd be awful. He'd be driven nuts, stir-crazy, unable to do anything. Just like he is now.

Alec freezes, the third batch of boiled water just poured into the stainless steel vessel, his mind stopping like a broken clock. His head twists to the distressed woman, and suddenly it's not a downworlder on the bed. Instead, he sees himself, as though through a mirror, lying on that bed screaming, an even larger version of who he is desperate to get something out through a hole that doesn't exist. There's blood dripping from his anus, he's screaming. He's begging. He wants it out, he's yelling at the warlock that's now helping the werewolf. Oh, Angel. He's pregnant.

He's pregnant. He couldn't be...

Pregnant?

Just like when a rock hits a mirror, an entire world shatters.

Splinter fly everywhere, bits of his reflection lodging themselves into the walls, hitting the room's inhabitants. Everywhere there's blood, from Magnus, the werewolf, the very walls have begun to drip a red truth that Alec doesn't need to see. He stumbles out of the room, his heart pounding louder than the screams of the woman, a reverberation of his broken mind spinning through his shocked head. It's not possible.

As Alec tumbles to his room, his head comes near exploding. This isn't who he is, no, he's not pregnant. He's a man. Men don't get pregnant, and besides, warlocks are infertile. Just because he's displaying some textbook symptoms doesn't mean he's pregnant-no, it could be something else. Something new, an odd tumor or... a male being pregnant would be new. No, that's not it! That's not it at all.

Alec flops onto his bed, the crackly ceiling above doing little to comport him. It's a bubbled up, uneven surface, completely uncertain in its shape and a bit off its rocker. It's just like Alec in that sense, a thought that rolls around in Alec's head, coating every layer of his brain. Maybe he's a bit misshapen, too. He curls onto his side, and fights back tears. He's not pregnant, the very idea is silly. Men don't get pregnant. It's just the unknown that's getting him so worked up. Besides, he hasn't puked in a week.

He's just been really sensitive to some smells, and has the growing bump of a first time mother. His chest has hurt a bit, but it couldn't be a _pregnancy._ Men don't get pregnant, especially not shadowhunter men. It's disgraceful, whatever's happening to him. Just like being gay is. Just like his very existence has been. Like his mood swings, or his inability to be useful. How he depends on Magnus to keep him alive because something is eating him from the inside, growing, getting bigger and bigger, draining him... just like a baby.

Alec bursts into tears, the syrupy feeling of being guilty trudging the corridors of his head, seeping into every cavity, every cell that possesses his thoughts. Alec wants to forget this idea, because the conviction his body is facing him with isn't something he can break away from. But once an idea has been thought, it can't be unthought. Alec wants to unthink it. Wants to be filling up the pot with water for the werewolf when she has her pups, wants his eyes to be oblivious to the similarities between their symptoms. He doesn't want his mind to tumble down a cemented path with picket signs of 'what if...' or 'maybe..' on every street corner. he doesn't want to be infected with this ludicrous idea that he's pregnant.

What would Magnus say? Would he laugh? Or would he shrug and say that there's a first time for everything?

Alec doesn't want there to be a first time for this. He doesn't want to be pregnant, he doesn't even want to entertain the idea. But it's a guest, and it's taken root in his mind, and he's half convinced already.

What if he really is pregnant?

He chuckles at the idea. Alexander Lightwood, teen mom. Or would he fall under dad?

It's with all these thoughts swirling through his head, his denials and insecurities swimming in a pool that he won't forget that everything slowly begins to shut down. The exhaustion of such a shock reaches through his body, and all systems slowly switch off as his breathing finally becomes normal. His limbs lose their control, his brain loses its steam and he surrenders himself to sleep.

* * *

When Alec wakes up, the red letters of the alarm clock tell him that it's early morning, long before Magnus will be up. He should make something for the guests, if they're still here. They probably are, recovering or someshit. Alec doesn't really care as he redresses for the day, washing his face and hands before he departs for the kitchen, the echo of pregnancy taking a backseat as he begins to prepare cinnamon rolls. He's made them a few times before and they've become a favorite of his, they take a while but Magnus seems to like them. Maybe the guests will too. He has a couple hours before anyone should be up, so he decides to make the recipe with yeast. Letting the dough rise while he does something else in the kitchen is something he likes, because it gives him an opportunity to make his own breakfast and look over the recipe books for another thing to try. It gives him a moment to think, but doesn't let him get too lost.

Alec smiles as he covers the freshly made dough with plastic wrap, and puts a pot of water on the stove because he left the kettle in the guest room yesterday. He'll have a cup then ice the rest for later in the day when everyone's up. He's not sure what you're supposed to eat after you give birth, but he imagines liquids will be in there somewhere, so he starts on a soup that he can freeze and maybe she can take home. He keeps his hands busy and his mind focuses on the food while drifting off to other things, light things. He avoids thinking about how he imagines himself facing this someday. Someday... When would that even be?

While chopping up broccoli, his mind wanders back to the past months, to the last time he had sex. It was with Magnus, before his secret meetings with Camille... They were in Magnus's office, and Magnus had him thrown across the desk, and he moaned as Magnus pressed against his prostate again and again. A blush rises to his cheeks as he thinks back to it, and a wave of emptiness follows and eliminates it. It's his fault that those times are gone. There was a lack of communication since then that caused everything to fall apart, a paper cut that lead to an infection that festered and turned deadly.

What would happen, if Alec was really pregnant? Would he get another chance with Magnus? Or would they just be 'friends' and raise the baby, however it would turn out, together? Would Magnus help? Or would he be single mom abomination Alec Lightwood? What would his family think, the Clave? Would his marks be taken, stripped away like enamel from a tooth? He hopes not. He doesn't want his enamel gone, he wants to be as healthy of a tooth as he can get. Magnus loves clean teeth, too. He won't tell the Clave about his suspicions. He'll have to get a second opinion, of course, if he's going to make his delusion anything more than an illusion.

He needs to know if it's real.


	8. Chapter 8 Ignorance

**Oh dear, I'm sorry it's been so long! Longest chapter of this fic yet, though. Isabelle is now a BAMF, Magnus is an asshole and Alec is over-emotional as usual. I'm glad you took the 'm-preg surprise bomb,' as one of you called it, as well as you did. I'm plotting a new fic and writing the first chapter, so these ones might be a bit slower than usual. **

**Thank you all for the support thus far! It is much appreciated, and Happy New Year! I've been writing on this site for a full year now! (And I have the first part of a malec two shot [titled Ten Years] up to celebrate if you so desire.)**

_"Man must evolve for all human conflict a method which rejects revenge, aggression and retaliation. The foundation of such a method is love."_

~Martin Luther King, Jr.

Restless Heart Syndrome Chapter 8 Ignorance

Alec bites his lip, staring at the phone. The glossy green outer shell, sitting there innocently, haunting Alec as he struggles to make up his mind. It's just a few numbers he'd have to type in… but what would the consequence be?

The werewolf woman has left, along with any distractions she presented to keep Alec's mind off of himself. She took the soup with tired thanks and a smile, and Alec had to fight off the urges to ask her every question he could think about regarding giving birth and being pregnant and all of those odd questions that men never ask. It might give him away (along with a healthy dose of embarrassment), so he didn't comment on the whirl of curiosity overtaking him. It would be his own to mess about with, to decipher. Not a werewolf woman's problem, especially one he hardly knew.

Sighing, Alec picks up the smooth phone, dialing in the numbers he's long since memorized, despite his misgivings and the doubt that cripple his reason. His fingers tremble as he brings the phone to his ear, and invites his sister over for lunch. She's not busy, thank (or curse) the angel, and promises to be there in twenty minutes. He puts down the phone, struggling against the weight of his own mind. He relaxes into the plush couch, letting its grip on him become more firm as he loses himself in his mind. Or more, loses himself trying to get out of him mind while still trying to remain actively in it, creating order out of a sparring match that has had far too many murders.

He feels like an invisible, and completely intangible, weight has settled in his thoughts, making them muddled and incomplete. There's the undeniable feeling that something _awful_ is going to happen, the absolute worst, but what exactly that consequence is is unknown. His mind is thick, trying to distract his even breathing, trying to evoke the worst possible reaction from his body. It's trying to get him to shut down so he doesn't have to think about it, so his head is free of burden while it ignores the symptoms his body suffers.

The weight of his mind seems to catch in his throat, and everything seems so wrong. There's a touch of foulness on everything, Alec realizes, his head spinning around the room. It's contaminated, he's contaminated, everything's eating at him and he's-

Alec is broken out of his panic by a knock on the door, shortly followed by the click of a key in a lock and the opening of Magnus's door. Alec gets up, albeit slowly, greeting his sister with a grim smile.

"Hey," She says, hugging her brother while avoiding the protruding swell of his stomach as much as possible. "How are you?"

"I've been better," he sighs, leading her to the kitchen. "Grilled cheese?"

"Sure," She nods, noting the fragile way Alec carries himself around the kitchen. He hasn't been training, maybe that's it. Or the bags under his eyes from nights of unrest, and invisible heaviness pressing on him. "So... What's up?"

"I need to talk to you," Alec says, putting butter on six slices of bread. Magnus would probably like a sandwich, and it's not as if they're very difficult to make. Turning the burner on low, he puts a rather large frying pan over the heat and begins the melting of cheese and toasting of bread.

"What about?" Isabelle asks, propping herself up on one of the counters Alec isn't using. Her brother ignores the question, pretending he hasn't heard it with a frown to himself, and she takes the hint. "Still into cooking, then? Maybe I could come over and make something for you and Magnus sometime. I bet it would be fun."

Alec smiles, the muted desperation masked well enough for her to ignore. "Maybe another time."

"You sure? I found this really cool soup recipe. I could get all of the ingredients and bring them over sometime-"

"No, Izzy, it's alright. I like cooking. It's a nice distraction."

Isabelle's sharper than the average tack, so it doesn't take much skill for her to catch it. "Distract you from what?"

Alec looks to the sandwiches, the smell of fat and salt oozing into his nostrils. It's something Alec craves, the cruchiness of the toasted bread paired with gooey cheddar as he bites into the simple, yet divine, meal. "I'll tell you after lunch."

He flips the sandwiches, preparing three plates. He gives himself and Isabelle Salt and Vinegar, while the orange color of the BBQ flavour that's Magnus's favorite makes it onto the warlock's plate. It's not something Isabelle looks past, but it's also not something that Alec thinks about. Each of them get a pickle and soon enough Alec's handing Isabelle a plate and walking down the halls to Magnus's office. He knock once before entering, not surprised to find Magnus amongst the mess of his office, pouring over some book or another. The warlock looks at place, he decides. There are glass pots filled with various herbs lining the shelves or spread out on the table, books in languages older than the warlock himself left to a open page or with a withered feather acting as a bookmark as they're piled together. With his hair lacking it's unnatural colors and product, and an intent look on his face, Magnus just seems to fit in with his surroundings. He seems as exotic as all of the subtly beautiful things around him, a part that completes a painting of a wizard's chamber.

"Grilled Cheese?" Alec asks, setting the plate down next to the warlock, careful not to disturb any of the papers, however randomly arranged they might seem to his eyes, illiterate in the old language not of his, or his kind's, tongue.

Magnus smiles, thanking him. In a surge of hormones Alec finds himself wanting to ask Magnus to kiss the cook, and decides it would be best to leave as quickly as possible. "Isabelle's here. She might be here a while, just so you know."

"That's fine."

Alec offers a quick smile before leaving, taking a deep breath outside the door, collecting himself, before reentering the kitchen where his sister is already half-finished with her food. She's here for a reason, he remembers, and starts on his food, not saying a word until they've both finished and their plates have been stored in the dishwasher until next load.

Sighing, Alec walks to the farthest guest room from Magnus's office, a royal purple one with a love seat and a bed, shutting the door.

"Sorry, I just don't really want Magnus to hear about this." He says, his nerves slowly lighting themselves on fire with the heat of his anxiety. She's going to think he's nuts.

"About what?" Isabelle asks, gently nudging her brother.

Maybe he shouldn't do this. To Hell with it. it's not like he's really got too much to lose.

"So... there's this girl," he starts, and Isabelle gasps.

"No. You're not going to tell me that you're straight, are you?"

Blushing to his ears, Alec sputters a no. "Let me finish. There's this girl, and, uh, she starts puking a lot. Like, all the time. And she gets dizzy sometimes, and she sort of turns into a wreck, emotionally, and she's got this bulge on her abdomen that she can't really explain and some smells are suddenly repulsive. She gets cravings, sometimes, too. What would you say is, uh... wrong with her?" It all rushes out before he can stop it, and now it can't be unsaid.

"Hm... I'd say she's pregnant."

_"Oh Angel..."_ Alec mutters, pacing back and forth in the room. It couldn't be this, no...

"Alec, what's wrong?"

_It can't be. I can't be. Can I? No, really, what else is there? Is this even an option?_

Stopping, Alec whirls to face his sister, a hand subconsciously making its way to his abdomen. "Iz... Do you... Do you think a guy could ever get pregnant?"

Izzy's brow furrows, and she looks at her brother intently. "Alec, you and I went through the same sex ed course. You know as well as I do that a man could never..."

Her eyes widen and her eyes slowly rake down his body, her mouth opening slightly. "Oh."

"Yeah," Alec nods, looking away. He shouldn't have said anything, now she's going to think he's a freak and disown him and-

Alec's thoughts are cut off by a shriek and an excited embrace from his sister, her strong arms wrapping around his neck, her body avoiding his stomach but still close. A rush of acceptance, of trust, runs through Alec, soothing his mind a little bit. This'll be okay.

"Oh Angel, Alec, when did you find out? Why didn't you _tell _me? It's Magnus's, isn't it? How is it even possible? Ah, I don't care, hug me!"

Alec wraps his arms around his little sister, glad she lost her composure in the best of ways, even if he doesn't know the answers to all her questions.

"I guessed, the idea has been running through my head for a week now. I wasn't sure. Do you think I could be...?"

She nods, pulling back, a grin splitting across her face. "I don't know how, but looking on it, what else could it be? Nothing that I know of, and I bet Magnus doesn't have any idea either. I mean, who'd ever guess this?"

"Which makes me wonder if it's real, or if it's my imagination."

"But Alec, what else? You've got all the symptoms!"

"I suppose..."

The door opens, cutting off whatever Alec might try and add to his defense, letting a cat-eyed warlock into the room, only heightening Isabelle's ecstasy. She needs something to be happy about, after so long.

"What the hell are you so excited about?" Magnus asks, questioning the uncontrollable smile on Isabelle's face and the squeals she's struggling to control.

"It's wonderful! God, Magnus, I'm so happy for you! You're-" Isabelle falls silent as Alec kicks her, and she turns the look on his face, which is not inviting her to tell Magnus the 'news.'

"I'm what?" Magnus prompts, the rift in the conversation doing nothing but confusing him.

"Um. You're… Uh, you're going to become an uncle. Yeah. Simon's sister is, uh, pregnant."

"That's lovely, dear. Why don't you go for the day? Surely, you've exhausted Alexander enough for the day." Magnus suggests, an eyebrow raised at the siblings. Magnus wasn't born yesterday, and with the poor execution of the sentence there's not a doubt on his mind that there's more to it. He'll have to ask Alec once she's gone.

Isabelle looks hesitant for a moment, before agreeing and jumping to hug her brother, extra careful with his abdomen now that she's convinced there's a precious life tucked away in there.

"I'll see you tomorrow," she says, making way to the door, giggling as she passes Alec.

That was... certainly more of a reaction than he expected from his sister.

"What was that about?" Magnus asks, turning to the shadowhunter he once called his own.

Alec shrugs, not meeting Magnus's eyes. "She must be, uh, excited about the... baby."

Bull shit. But it's not his place to comment, not really, as much as he wants to, so he just looks at the swollen teen from head to toe, not ignoring the dangerous bulge that Alexander's hand rests on, before nodding and making his way back to his office. Alec follows him out, heading to his own room, realizing that he's tired. He's really, really tired. He hasn't slept well since the day the idea of pregnancy crossed his mind, and his nerves have been on edge, wondering if Magnus will realize he has, make the same assumptions. He's tired from worrying about all of the possibilities, all the what ifs. Though it's hardly past lunch, Alec crawls into the bed he now calls his, and with the warmth of acceptance still clinging to his skin, he gets the first goodnight's sleep he's had in a long time.

* * *

Alec's mind is not without thoughts of troubles when Isabelle appears the ext day, carrying with her a tote bag and take-out enough for all three of them, though she knows that Magnus won't be a part of their conversation. She brings him some this time, saying hello with much less vigor than previously, for problems have begun to plague her thoughts as well, and she's started to worry much like her brother.

"You didn't tell anyone, did you?" Alec asks as she goes back to his room, Alec locking the door so they aren't barged in on this time around.

She shakes her head, and Alec lets out a sigh of relief.

"I get now that you might not want to have anyone know yet. I've been thinking about it a lot since yesterday."

Alec nods, laying down next to his sister on his bed. "Thank you."

They lay next to each other in silence for a while, letting their thoughts churn.

"Your marks," Isabelle finally says, and Alec's heart aches at the mention of them. "The Clave..."

"The Clave would only be taking something I have already lost," Alec says, lifting up one of his arms, scarred and deformed marks being the only thing showing on his skin.

"Why do you think that is? Your marks, I mean. When mom was pregnant with Max she still had her marks just fine..."

"Warlock," Alec says. He's thoughts about that, too. "Magnus is the only person that could be the father. I haven't... Warlocks and marks don't mix, and it has warlock blood in it, if it is what we think it is."

"Do you have any idea how this could have happened?"

"Not really, no. It's why I don't really trust it."

"Yeah," Isabelle sighs. "I wish we could be sure. Maybe if you told Magnus, he could-"

"No," Alec cuts her off. "I don't want him to know, not yet. I just... I don't know if I can handle getting more attention from him than I already do. I... I still love him, Isabelle. But that doesn't matter to him."

Sighing, Isabelle presses her forehead to her brother's. "It should," she sits up, going over to her tote. "I have something for you."

Pulling the bag over to Alec, Isabelle pulls out a few books that drastically change the pale color of Alec's cheeks.

Mayo Clinic Guide to a Healthy Pregnancy_, _The Pregnancy Countdown Book and The Mother of All Pregnancies stare up at him, some much larger than the others but nonetheless relentless on his embarrassment.

"I think you should read these. They might be useful." She leans down to kiss Alec's cheek. "I'm going to go to the library. I have my own reading to do. Call me if you need anything."

"Thank you," is all Alec manages as his sister leaves, still in a slight shock. He pulls one of the books away from the other two after reading the summaries, hiding it under his bed as he begins to look over the first book. He doesn't want Magnus to find them, so he'll have to be careful.

* * *

It's been six months since Alec first first moved (back) in with Magnus, and it surely shows on his stomach. He's swollen, awkward, weak and pretty much everything a male shadowhunter shouldn't be. Thank the angel he isn't short (though with Magnus around one would never guess) or he wouldn't know how to go on. Though he hardly knows anyway. He and Magnus talk more now than they did at the beginning, and Alec's as civil as he can be. He tries to be nice, because Magnus isn't cruel, those are his own emotions that have been thrown around.

He keeps wanting to tell Magnus that's he's pregnant. He's known for a month, but he can't find it within him to tell Magnus. So he and Magnus just coexist, sometimes awkwardly, sometimes painfully, but even though it might feel that way sometimes there are little things that happen, just tones in Magnus's voice, the soft look in his eyes, that remind Alec that Magnus is hurting too, that they're both still stuck in love. He doesn't want to ruin what they have, though he's sure they don't really have all too much. Neither of them can say "I love you" to the other without consequence, from themselves and yet another beating heart.

Magnus is sitting at the island in the kitchen, shooting the breeze while he watches the shadowhunter, if he's still even that, stir a pot of soup. Alec's in a good mood, though. He's been getting on well with Magnus, talking about this and that, smiling.

"Do you think the Heavenly Fire will fade soon?" Alec asks, glancing at the stove's built-in timer.

"If it hasn't already, I doubt it."

Alec nods, prodding a broccoli with his wooden spoon. It's still too hard, so are the noodles. "Do you think the Silent Brothers will be able to do anything about it?"

Magnus sighs, resting his cheek on his palm. "Maybe. They're skilled, they'll probably figure out something, but they work at their own pace. Look at you for an example. You've seen them twice since this parasite got into you and they've been here twice."

Alec flinches slightly at the word 'parasite,' yelping in surprise as something inside him agrees against the word, sending the more awkward yet familiar echo through his body. It's one of the most bizarre feelings Alec's ever felt, his breathing wavering for a second as his legs shake, but he keeps upright, pushing his hand against his protruding belly. He doesn't much like being kicked, not even from the inside, as his organs will surely agree.

"What was that?" Magnus asks, alarmed gaze falling on the bookworm.

_Shit. _"I, uh, just stubbed my toe. Nothing much."

Magnus laughs. "Since when did an almighty shadowhunter _yelp _upon stubbing his toe?"

Alec flushes, even if a stubbed toe wasn't the cause of the yelp. But he did yelp... "Hush."

Not quite an adequate response, but the soup timer goes off, and Alec turns to it, sampling a bow tie noodle and deeming the concoction fit for consumption. They eat together, and Magnus invites Alec to watch a movie with him. They do, but Alec's clearly missing some of the jokes. He doesn't quite understand how you can get your mojo stolen while you've been frozen. Magnus did say that he might not want to take it too seriously, though.

"He was very interested in sex," Alec comments, his face flushing as the movie ends.

Magnus laughs. "Yeah, that's Austin Powers for you."

They're silent for a few minutes, before Alec gets up to go to the kitchen, not wanting to say something he can't mean in the comfortable moment. "Do you want a cinnamon roll? I still have some from Monday's batch."

"Ugh, no," Magnus moans. "I can't eat another one."

"Do you want me to stop making them?" Alec asks, his voice suddenly very weak.

"No, Alec, I didn't mean it like-"

"If you don't like my cooking, you could have just said something!"

"Goddmmmit, Alec, stop cutting me off! That's not what I meant, and if you'd listen to what I have to say, you'd-"

"Me, cut you off? I'm sorry, but wasn't it you that didn't give me a chance to explain myself?"

"What are you talking about?" Magnus asks, a bit off-center, standing up and walking closer to his charge.

"You just left, Magnus, you fucking left! You hardly gave me a chance to explain myself and-"

"Are you talking about our _breakup?"_

_"It's not a breakup if you fucking dumped me!"_

"You were planning on shortening my life! What did you expect me to do!"

"Maybe hear me out, you fuckwad!" Alec screams, stepping closer to his ex.

"What else did I need to hear!" Magnus yells, marching up to the shorter male.

They glare at each other for a second, before a sob rips up Alec's throat. "I just wanted to explain," he whispers, looking away from the taller of the pair.

All of Magnus's anger slips away as Alec paws away his tear, and he pulls the shadowhunter to his chest, rocking them back and forth. He should be mad right now, thinking back on their breakup, not comforting his betrayer. But there's still that twinge of attraction every time Alec's around, that desire to be with him that the warlock has very purposefully all but ignored.

He loses himself, for a moment, in the urges he gets whenever the blue-eyed boy steps close. It's just a moment that he forgets, or pretends not to remember, and he's taken Alec's chin in his hand and lifted it softly up, pulling soft pink lips to his. It's something he's missed, and Alec has too, by the way he seems to melt into the kiss, lifting his head up to better it. It takes a moment of sheer bliss for the two, and then it's not so chaste, their tongues twining and twisting into each others' mouths, revisiting memories since passed and places they never thought they'd be again.

They can feel each other against each other, or what they've grown to be with the baby pressed between them. But thoughts of it are gone, not with Magnus's hands in Alec's hair and Alec's hands on the warlock's back, trying to pull them closer than their lives can allow. it's desperate, it's an expression of just how much they've missed each other and they love every second of it, finally stopping to catch their breaths, pressing their foreheads together as they pant for the same air, similar smiles splitting their features.

"Magnus, I think I'm pregnant." Alec breathes, and he's not sure why he says it. Maybe he just feels that after such a kiss Magnus couldn't reject him, maybe the warlock's tongue opened his mouth in more ways than one. But the moment the words slip out, his heart clenches, and he's not disappointed.

"Don't be silly." Magnus breathes, and Alec retracts from him, feeling as though he were just punched in the gut.

"I'm not being silly, Magnus. I'm pregnant." Alec's eyes are unwavering as Magnus meets them, and the warlock finds just a bit of the anger that the hug let him forget.

"Stop fucking lying, Alec. You can't be fucking pregnant. You're not a girl."

"Magnus, I know it sounds weird, but-"

"It doesn't sound weird, Alec, it sounds fucking desperate. You're not carrying my child and even if you were I wouldn't give a fuck."

Alec doesn't say anything for a minute, then he turns around, away from Magnus, and the warlock can see his shoulders tremble as he walks to the door, pulling on a pair of shoes he hasn't had to wear in half of a year and a jacket, not even slamming the door behind him as he leaves.

_Good riddance! _Magnus thinks, storming back into the kitchen, crashing into a cat who meows loud enough to call attention to himself. Magnus bends down to scratch Chairman Meow behind the ears, the small cat's purr soothing. He takes a deep breath before his eyes widen in realization of what he's just done.

The symptoms... it wouldn't explain the marks, not really, but he supposes everything else could fit. The mood swings, sensitivity towards certain smells, the bulge, hell, even the tissue regeneration makes sense because he's a male and the womb would have to be drawn from somewhere-Oh, _shit._

_The tissue regeneration._


	9. Chapter 9 Happiness

**Okay, hi guys. I need to just rant for a minute before I start this shit.**

**If you don't already fucking understand this, child abuse is fucking wrong. Hitting your kid, slamming them against a wall and attempting to choke them isn't o-fucking-kay. It causes a lifetime of trust and other issues, drug abuse to just _get out _and bad decisions. It's not okay, and if you don't understand that, I want you to leave and never come back to my fucking page. Ever. I've got some personal shit going on, and if you've ever just had at it with your kid get your fucking ass out of here. **

**It's not okay.**

**Thanks for the reviews, though, I really do like those very much. I just might never see one of my friends again because of her fucking mother and I genuinely don't know what to do. Sorry for taking up space with my head. I've posted a new HS fic, called _Lights,_ just check it out, okay? I need to calm down in the meantime.**

_"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness, it was the epoch of belief, it was the epoch of incredulity, it was the season of Light, it was the season of Darkness, it was the spring of hope, it was the winter of despair, we had everything before us, we had nothing before us, we were all going direct to Heaven, we were all going direct the other way."_

-Charles Dickens_, A Tale of Two Cities_

__Restless Heart Syndrome Chapter 9 Happiness.

Magnus doesn't bother pulling on a scarf though the air is chilly, racing out of his apartment in a scandalously little amount of makeup, taking a moment to try and figure out which way Alec would have gone before heading down the nearly deserted nighttime street, moving towards the Institute. He's pretty sure that that's where Alec would head, towards his sister and all that he's used to.

He's not disappointed, in that sense at least, when he finds Alec not even a half block away. But his panicking heart stops for a second as he sees the shadowhunter, or at least, the mound on the ground that makes a very similar clothing choices to Alec. But then, it could just be a homeless person. It isn't, Magnus is scared to say, because when he gets close enough he can see just how pale Alec is. Pale, but his cheeks are flushed with life and bits of steam rise from his nose as Magnus sees his breath. He's not dead, the warlock realizes, with a shock of happiness running through him.

Magnus crouches next to Alec, shaking the teen's shoulder. He nearly jumps when Alec spurts out a mouthful of blood onto the sidewalk, coughing a very ugly cough that doesn't seem to want to stop. It's a disgusting thing, filled with blood and mucus and the back of Alec's throat and it sounds nothing if not uncomfortable. He focuses on Alec's stomach, noticing for the first time just how much it looks like Alec could be pregnant. It's... It really does look like it could be that.

Magnus shakes his head, focusing back on the task at hand. He runs his hand over Alec's swollen stomach, closing his eyes as magic pulses through him. Magnus gasps as the state of Alec's innards are relayed to him, the dramatic shifting and tearing not going unnoticed. He's bleeding like crazy in there, and if Magnus doesn't do something soon Alec's going to die, taking that odd extra organ and Magnus's heart with him.

He didn't mean to say that when he was mad. He didn't mean for this, he doesn't want to be finding Alec's collapsed and dying body on the ground. He doesn't want to have to fight for Alec's life because they're not on the best terms and everything is so greatly _fucked up._ He just doesn't want this to be his fault.

Magnus sends a pulse of magic through the tips of his fingers to Alec's skin, which is losing heat as Alec's body fights to keep itself alive. He mends the tears as he can, carefully going over each organ and repairing what he can. Alec's breathing is offbeat, erratic and a constant reminder that the dark haired shadowhunter might die tonight, not at the hands of a demon or even Valentine, but by his own body's repetitive malfunction. Magnus is exhausted by healing Alec while keeping tissue regeneration going, but he manages to carry his unconscious blue eyed teen up to his apartment and into his bed, a bed that they used to share, before collapsing next to him. There are things he needs to say to Alec, but he's not even sure when the shadowhunter will be waking up. He needs to sleep as well, or it's certain that the shadowhunter _won't _be waking up because his guts will be devouring themselves.

* * *

Alec wakes to a painful throb in his abdomen and a very stiff back. He shouldn't be sleeping on his back, one of the books he has says that the left side is best, and Alec's found that there are less aches in the morning when he sleeps on his side. He groans, an uncomfortable thing that pools an ache in his swelling body, opening his eyes to a dim light and a ceiling he hasn't seen in what feels like a year. He'd recognize it anywhere, and he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. He's in the room he used to always sleep in when he came over. The room that he used to stay in with the warlock he could call his own, where they spent time together, talking or sleeping or... well. Alec decides he should sit up,in fact, he thinks that's a very good idea, but he can't find the motivation to do it. His body feels really heavy, different than yesterday.

Oh, Angel, yesterday. Yesterday was awful.

Magnus doesn't care about him, or even their baby if they're actually having one. They kissed and then it was all over. Alec didn't even get a chance to explain to Magnus about Camille before he... he...

_Stop fucking lying... fucking desperate... I wouldn't give a fuck...I wouldn't give a fuck._

Alec wonders, with these thoughts swirling around the room, if it's his body or Magnus's words that are pinning his body down to the soft bed. Tiredness, he finally decided, as things aren't quite as sharp as they could be. The idea of Magnus hating him, thinking that he'd say he's pregnant because he's desperate... Alec wouldn't disgrace that shadowhunter race like that. He's already done enough damage as it is.

"Alec?" He hears Magnus, and slowly pulls himself up into a sitting position. He considers stretching, but with all the aches that have decided to take up residence in his body he forgoes it. Magnus looks tired, a cup of coffee in his hand as he makes his way over to Alec. He pulls a pillow back so Alec can lay back down but still be elevated, something Alec's grateful for. After what happened, with all the yelling, they're probably going to have to talk and Alec would really rather not be laying down, especially not on his back, for that.

"Thirsty?" Magnus asks, offering Alec the ceramic cup of coffee situated in his thin-fingered hands.

Alec nods, accepting the cup. "I'm not supposed to have more than one or two of these a day."

Magnus stiffens, stress working its way through his shoulders as he looks away from the shadowhunter. "Look, I wanted to apologize. I... I said some pretty harsh things to you last night, and I'm sorry, I was just mad... I didn't mean it."

Alec's silent for a moment, wanting to say that he doesn't understand and that it's not okay, but he's said some awful things to Magnus when they were fighting as well. It's what people do when they're hurt; they try to bring other people down with them.

"Magnus... I'm not going to forgive you right away, but I get it." Alec almost feels like he's drowning on the words. Magnus might not have even really meant the jagged lacerations that surround the thing growing inside of Alec, but they're still there, and Alec likely won't forget them for a long time to come. They'll stick around like the cracks in a mirror.

Magnus sighs. "I'm glad."

They're silent for a moment, Alec sipping at his coffee and Magnus watching him. They're both uncomfortable, and trying to find a way to bring up another thing they need to discuss. Or they could ignore it and let it fester, like a wound that neither wants to clean.

"I think we should just be friends." Magnus finally says, his features downcast.

Alec doesn't want to agree, he wants to violently protest but he can't. He doesn't want to ruin things more than he already has. "Sure."

"Do you want to check to see if you're actually pregnant?"

Alec sighs. "Isabelle brought over some of those stick things a while ago. They went haywire."

"Mm," Magnus notes, then his eyes light up just a bit. "Is that what Isabelle was freaking out about the other day? Saying I was going to be an uncle?"

"Yeah. I didn't want to tell you until I was sure, and she was going to say something..." Alec rubs at his stomach, frowning. It seems he's gained energy, as it no longer feels like he's moving through a painful jelly.

"You should have told me sooner."

"You were there for your reaction," Alec snaps. "Sorry."

"It's fine," Magnus waves it off. "Do you want me to see if you're actually pregnant? I didn't have enough energy to do it last night when you were healing."

"Healing?" Alec asks, a bit confused. He can remember leaving the flat, walking in a near waddle and making it maybe fifteen yards before a pain ripped through him and everything went black.

"Yeah. When I found you your body was ripping itself up. It took all of my energy to fix you up as well as I did and get you back here. You're staying in that bed for the next couple of days, because you can't use an _iratze."_

Alec flushes, remembering the last time Magnus told Alec he wasn't leaving the bed for days. It was a rather unfortunate time to depart from, but as they say, all good things must come to and end. Kind of like him and Magnus. "Oh. Thanks."

"Don't say thank you when it was my fault."

Alec looks away from Magnus, back to the ceiling. It brings attention to his stiff neck, and he moves his hand to rub at it. "You said you could check to see if I'm actually pregnant?"

"Mhm. It would be stupid not to."

"How?" Alec asks, interested. This could be it.

"I should have enough energy for it. Take off your shirt, yeah?"

Alec frowns, excitement and terror running through him as he places his coffee cup to the side, then pulls at the bottom of his shirt, taking a moment to pull it over his head.

"Unbutton your pants."

Alec does so, a bit awkwardly. "I thought we agreed on 'just friends?'"

Magnus chuckles slightly, shaking his head. "Can you lay down?"

Alec scoots down to lie, pushing a light comforter out of the way. He swallows as Magnus's hands dance uncertainly over his bulge before his hands, still a pleasant enough temperature from the coffee cup, rest gently on his stomach. His eyes are closed in concentration as he works his magic, and Alec can't help but smile at the expression he's seen so many times.

Magnus smiles after a second, opening his eyes and his warm heart up to Alec's anxious blue orbs.

"It's a boy," Magnus says, and Alec can't help but gasp in surprise. He's... He's really pregnant? Oh, Angel, is this really happening? It's not just all in his head, a hopeless delusion?

"Oh, Angel... Magnus, we're having a kid." Alec whispers. "But how?"

"Are you even sure it's mine? Warlocks are infertile."

"Magnus, I've been a shadowhunter my entire life. Unlike Clarissa Fray, I do know things about the shadow world. And you're the only person I've ever, uh, had sex with." His face is lit up a flushed red by the end of it.

"Hm," Is all Magnus says. "Do you have any idea how this is going to work?"

Alec shakes his head.

Magnus sighs. "That's what I was afraid of. I don't, either."

* * *

"What the hell were you thinking?" Isabelle yells at Magnus as soon as she sees the warlock. She more or less got the story from Alec over the phone, and though excited for the baby, she's enraged with Magnus.

"As much as I would love to face your wrath, wouldn't you much rather see your pregnant brother?" Magnus deflects, trying to get her to move on from chewing his head off.

"I can talk to him later. How could you? Kissing someone then turning a knife in their back until you've got it twisted to the perfect angle? It's sick."

Magnus takes a moment to be surprised that Alec told her that much before continuing."Isabelle, I know I said some pretty out of sorts things. But keep in mind that, while I may be old, I haven't seen everything. I'm not perfect."

Isabelle sighs, shaking her head. "Magnus, I just don't want to see me brother any more hurt than he already is."

"Then you had best remember that he likely wouldn't be alive if it weren't for me."

Isabelle nods, starting to make her way towards Alec's room, even if she was talking about a different kind of hurt. "Mom'll be here in a half hour. I'll make sure Alec's presentable, you make sure that whatever you are going to tell her is presentable. Because as far as she can know, Alec's still got a tumor. We can't have the Silent Brothers or the Clave hearing about this. Who knows what they'd do to him."

Magnus nods. He knows better than most how harsh the punishment of the Clave can be on the abnormal.

* * *

Alec's not completely surprised when his mother arrives, just a bit after Isabelle. He knew she was coming, but it's been months. She did what she could to get him to live, then abandoned him, or so it seems. She's certainly been absent, dealing with Jace or Sebastian or other Clave difficulties. Actually running the New York Institute for once, not taking back seat.

She looks... Glad to see him, he decides. There's a small smile on her lips, a delicate thing that looks as if it could be washed away in the current of Maryse and Maryse's Problems without too much of a looks worn out, tired, like she's under entirely too much stress and it's leaving her too thin, with bags under her skin and red in her eyes. She doesn't look weak, Alec wonders if she ever could, but she certainly doesn't look ready to fight any great battle. The only thing that suggests otherwise is the sharpness in her eyes, that cool factor that hasn't changed for as long as he can remember..

"Alexander," she whispers, looking over her oldest son. The only one left who isn't on fire. He's sitting on the couch in the living room, next to his sister, and Maryse's breath hitches as she notices how big Alec's swelled, almost as if he's pregnant, and she can't help but be disgusted by whatever is taking Alec's life as a shadowhunter away from him.

"Hi, Mom." Alec says, smiling at her in the odd and slightly distracted way he always does.

"Hey, sweetie," She says, trying not to stare at him too much as she sits down in an armchair next to the couch, right by Alec. "I'm sorry your dad couldn't make it."

He freezes, Isabelle bites her lip, and Maryse suddenly feels as if she's said something wrong and she doesn't entirely know what it is.

"Dad... dad's back?"

Oh God, he didn't know? Maryse nods, trying to figure out why Alec doesn't know. Robert didn't call and tell him? Isabelle didn't mention it? "Yeah. He's been back off and on for the last three months."

Alec looks like he wants to sob for a second, before he's calm and smiling that same smile that's even more distracted and making small talk with her and if it weren't for the giant bulge invading his body, the upset lilt that he keeps trying to smother and the fact that they're all actually talking Maryse would almost think that things are okay. But as it is, it's obvious they're not and the oldest shadowhunter in the room feels awful about not visiting Alec so often. She's just been busy with Jace, with the Clave and with Robert, who likely isn't going to be her husband for much longer.

* * *

Alec's alone in his room. His mother has long since left, taking Isabelle with her and leaving him, as it has been for years, to his own dull devices. The light blue of the room isn't as inviting as it once was, the color warped in the darkness to something bland, something uninviting as the desk in the corner takes on an unrecognizable shape of its own. He's not tired, not like he wants to be. He wants to sleep for a million years and never wake up, but he can't. His body is alive with thoughts that won't go away, of his visits with Camille and how his father not wanting anything to do with him is less of a splinter and more of a fucking bullet through his heart.

A time ago he might have cried. He might have curled up under his sheets, or Magnus's sheets, whosever they are, and let his eyes fill up and his throat start to lose its ability to function as sobs rip at it. But not now, not anymore. He just feels... kind of empty. Not a good empty, not a bad empty, just a... vacant, unused empty. He doesn't really know what to do.

He gets up, intent on just waddling over to the library and getting a book or watching television or something he doesn't have to pay too much attention to, but he finds himself looking at the soft light of a reading lamp that he can see through a strip of open space under the door leading to Magnus and the room they have so many memories in. He knocks, still really not sure what he feels about anything, opening the door to Magnus looking up at him from over a book in his bed. Their bed, as it once was. Maybe Magnus shared it with a lot of people at one point or another, but to Alec, it's _theirs._

He closes the door behind him, walking over to Magnus and pulling himself up and into the bed, slowly covering himself in the blanket and just sort of... snuggling into the warlock's side. He closes his eyes, just breathing for a minute. When he opens them again, Magnus is staring at him.

"And what're you doing?"

Alec shrugs. "I wanted to talk to you."

"And you couldn't do that in the morning?"

"I won't tell you in the morning," Alec sighs, leaning away from his ex. "I wanted to talk to you."

"So you said. What do you need to get off your chest that you can't do later?"

"It's about Camille," Alec says, waiting a minute. He feels Magnus tense up, and he just stares at the ceiling.

"I just need to tell you. I'm sorry, I just... can't not tell you. I know you said it wouldn't matter, that nothing does anymore, but..." Alec frowns. "I never wanted to kill you. I didn't really even want to shorten your life. I just... I wanted to know more about _you. _You'd never tell me, y'know? And Camille, she'd known you for _so long._ Probably five or six times longer than I'll even live. She knew you. You loved her. I love you, and I really don't know anything about you, Magnus. You don't tell me things. You never have."

Neither of them say anything for a while, and Alec's too screwed up right now to recognize that he should be waiting for something, that he should be anxious right now. He should be terrified, because Magnus is_ still going to reject him. _

Magnus lets out a shaky laugh after a while, and Alec turns his head up slightly to see his face twisted into an exasperated smile that's desperate and awkward and really just not Magnus. "I'm not sure if I should hit you or kiss you." He admits.

Alec smiles just a bit. "Then kiss me, and let me sleep here tonight. I don't want to be alone right now."

And he really, really doesn't want to be alone, not now and not ever, he realizes. It's something he realizes as Magnus's lips meet his own, as he stops feeling quite so uncertain and just fucking devoid of everything.

Tonight, he's not alone, he's with Magnus and yeah, he's something that resembles happy, despite his entire life going to shit.


	10. Chapter 10 A Matter of Time

**It's, uh, really short... 2k. But that's okay, I guess. I've started another new fic, Blind, which is nice and angsty and maybe you'll want to check it out. (They actually _love _each other in this one... Some crazy shit.**

**Yes, I planned it like this.**

* * *

"It is our attitude at the beginning of a difficult task which will affect its successful outcome."

-William James

Restless Heart syndrome Chapter 10 A Matter of Time

Alec sighs, snuggling further into Magnus as he tucks himself as much as possible with his six-month pregnant belly into the couch. The Warlock is so… warm. It's nice, really nice, to feel the press of someone else against him after so long of being… well, alone. He doesn't even want to admit how much he's missed this. How much he's missed Magnus, despite living with him the whole time. He's just missed being like this, on a mucky day sitting around and pretending he doesn't have a permanent case of cabin fever.

He misses kissing Magnus, being held by Magnus, talking to Magnus... Oh Angel, how could he have gone so long without it? As he exchanges words that somehow mean more than just a series of sounds and ideas pressed through lips, he understands just a bit more of what it feels like to be on top of a miserable world. He feels like nothing can touch him. That today will be a good day. The first in a series of long, forgiving and healing weeks. Another chance to live his life. Angel, he even finds himself wanting the horrible little creature tucked up inside of him. It's his and Magnus's, he thinks, romanticizing it. It's theirs, and if he's practically lost to the Clave and Shadowhunting this better be damn worth it. It's not like he can actually get rid of it anyway, not with the web it's building inside of him.

"I've missed you," he admits, shifting under the warm blanket draped over them. It's nice... peaceful. Here, in this bubble of space and seemingly time with the love of his life, away from the perils of normal shadowhunter life, he can just live for the now and not blame anyone for the part where he'll be abandoned by everything he knows once he's had this baby. It's okay; he's okay.

"I've missed you, too," Magnus nods.

* * *

It had started too easily. But that's how most fights start, isn't it? Easily. Innocently. Of course, it's usually a build-up that leads to an explosion but sometimes you just start bickering and then you're not just bickering anymore, you're trying not to cry as the person you love most screams at you and you scream back even though you _know _it's not in your best interest, that you really don't want to be doing this but they're doing it too and you just can't help yourself even with that nagging voice digging in your head. Suddenly you're screaming your worst at each other.

It's not Magnus and Alec's first fight like this; they've had a couple, maybe even a few, started by one or the other or even Chairman Meow that one time. That wasn't a good day, and today was supposed to be a good day. Alec had predicted it. It was also Alec who spat the first insult. And instead of taking it, like Magnus sometimes would, like Alec sometimes would, he fired back. And it went on, their bodies coiling in on themselves as they fought over something of absolute irrelevance that immediately became of utmost importance.

Alec really needs to stop starting these things. It can't be a good thing for a relationship for them to fight _this _much. But they do fight this much, and it's horrible. Magnus always manages to get the last word in, though, and this time is no different as he yells one last time and leaves for the bedroom, fighting the urge to just _walk out. _But Alec's collapsed on the floor in the middle of the living room, and ignoring the shock of pain through his protruding, awful, horrible belly as he does so.

He sits there, holding his knees around the parasite, ignoring the waves of pain that flow over him as he sobs into himself. He's so weak. He shouldn't be crying like this; he's a shadowhunter, a man. He was never this emotional before Magnus fucking dumped this thing in him, quite literally. It's all Magnus's fault, they should have used a damn condom. Now he's swollen up like a pumpkin and alone with the monster that won't be going away for another three months. He can't do this, he doesn't want to do this. He wishes that this thing inside him were gone. He can't support it, not like he is, he'll have to start anew in the mundie world and relearn everything. He won't be able to get a good job because they Clave won't give him papers after they learn what an abomination he is, they won't help him and he won't be able to speak with Isabelle or Jace or even Maryse, though that really wouldn't change how much they see each other anyway. He's already been cast aside by his family. Maybe they can't help it, but right now Alec really doesn't _care _under the crushing sensation of loneliness.

He flops onto his back, determined to stop crying and glare at the ceiling, only to find himself gasping as his womb shivers, rearranging itself. It's not like anything he's ever felt before; it's not like the kick, not like his runes burning, not like anything he's ever gone through with this dreaded _pregnancy _business. It's like a tensing of some sort, uncomfortable, a building tension that suddenly runs down the length of his belly and to his pelvic bone where it intensifies and Alec's crying out despite himself because the pain is sitting there, building, like it's trying to do something else but it _can't _because the right equipment isn't there.

Breathing heavily, Alec tries to calm himself as he struggles to sit up, eventually himself up on a chair and panting for a few seconds because it _hurts _before he stumbles to the bedroom door. It's locked, and he calls out but Magnus is igno pulling ring him. He won't open it, and Alec can't hold himself up any longer. He slides to the floor, bumping up a bit and jarring himself as he hits the wood flooring. And angel, it hurts.

It starts again, like another round of a match he doesn't want to be in, and it strikes at every part of his body while hitting at his belly. He's having trouble finding the breath required, and his forehead is steadily accumulating sweat. He hits at Magnus's door, hoping the warlock with open it as a wetness encases his legs. He arches his back, crying out as he literally feels like he's being torn apart from the inside. He slides sideways from the door to the floor, lying on his side, searching for air that just isn't there as the most intense hurting he's ever felt runs through him. It feels like when he was dying because of the greater demon, only worse.

"Magnus!" He calls, because he needs the warlock, no matter what he said not ten minutes ago. He needs something, anything, to make this stop. He can't _handle _it. It burns, and the pain building up just above his ass is on fire. He whimpers as another wave passes over him, and the pain is intensified as suddenly whatever the hell was building grows thick enough to shift through and _break. _Angel, he really is being split open.

He can feel the moistness of his own blood on his legs, running to the floor. For a moment, stupid, all he can think about is the _stain _it's going to leave but then his thoughts are back on how awfully screwed up he is. Weren't contractions supposed to start out being twenty minutes apart from each other? Why are they every three minutes, then? This shouldn't be _happening. _It's three months too early. At this point, the baby's chance for survival is literally fifty percent, and that's with all sorts of hospital equipment. This shouldn't be happening. Maybe if he pretends it isn't happening, it won't be happening.

"Magnus!" He cries, trying to get the glittery man's attention from inside their room as another wave of pain crashes over him. "Please," he gasps. "Magnus, I think-oh shit, I think there's something wrong with the baby! Fuck," he curses.

It only takes Magnus a moment to open the door, his features harsh then softening and turning to worry as he sees his boyfriend (if they're still even that) curled up on the floor, the floor off color from what looks like a hell of a lot of blood. Then, he's worried. He knows just as well as Alec that this is too fucking early.

With a snap, he's levitated Alec, and puts him in the room he had the werewolf woman give her eight or whatever pups in. Another flick of Magnus's fingers and Alec's completely naked, something Alec's grateful for, and not for the first time. BUt he can't think of those times now, not in a good way because this is what came of it and now his body is erupting in the most exquisitely horrible pain and he just hates it. How could he let this happen to himself? How could Magnus have let this happen? Damn fucking warlocks are supposed to be sterile. He's supposed to be a _male _shadowhunter. Fuckit_all._

Alec's back arches unnaturally for his swelled state and his eyes open wider than they should ever go. He feels something rush up the back of his throat and he's coughing, and he sees the panicked look in Magnus's eyes. This doesn't mean... It can't. He has to fight. Another smash of screams runs through his bleeding and disfunctionate throat as Magnus tries to combat his own magic within Alec, but it isn't enough. Magnus can't overpower himself.

Alec lets more tears run down his cheeks, and now, he doesn't care how pathetic they are. It doesn't matter. "If he's a boy... name him Max."

* * *

When the door opens Brother Zachariah does not expect to see Magnus standing there with a haunted look and covered with blood. He hopes it's for some spell, or something, because that isn't a shy amount. He's almost scared to ask for Alec, fearing the familiar warlock might have killed the man, but does anyway.

Magnus leads him into the apartment, and collapses on one of the chairs. "Jem," he says, and the Brother is surprised that Magnus is using his real name. He thought they weren't going to be doing that anymore? He wasn't Jem anymore, he was Brother Zachariah. "Why are you here?"

Jem pauses, wondering briefly just how careful he has to be about his words. _It was my intention to see Alexander,_ he starts, watching his old friend visibly deflate.

"Why?' The tired-eyyed warlock inquires, running a reddened hand through his dark hair.

Jem hesitates, if only for a moment. _He requested placement elsewhere if it was at all possible. We finally found someone good enough and trust worthy, not to mention willing. For the right price, of course.__  
_

He watches as Magnus almost attempts to smile in exasperation, this his lips twitch down and stretch back on his face, and his hand is covering his mouth. It takes Jem a second to realize, but as gentle sobs drift from Magnus he realizes that the ancient downworlder is crying.

"He was pregnant. That was what went so wrong. Oh, Jem. Alec's dead. And it's all my fault."


End file.
